


JUMP:START

by princepixel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Astronauts, Astronomy, Betrayal, Character Development, Engineering, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Government Conspiracy, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Mystery, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Outer Space, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Political tensions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, its all very tender trust me, mention of disordered eating habits, sciencey but ive done the thinking for u!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 54,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princepixel/pseuds/princepixel
Summary: Huang Renjun, flight surgeon of space shuttle LYRA-1, was presumed dead in the explosion.Except he didn’t die-- for better or for worse.As the sole survivor of mission FUSE, Renjun spends his days trapped in a damaged escape pod, waiting to be found. He never expected wandering astronaut Lee Jeno to get stuck with him, or for rescue to come with more secrets, betrayal, and grief than either of them could have imagined as they struggle to find their way back to a world on fire.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 152
Kudos: 357
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	1. SNAP

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #00184 !! 
> 
> i would like to thank [sage](https://twitter.com/sungieberry) and [julia](https://twitter.com/polyjaemin) for encouraging me to tackle this, and ofc my lovely prompter <3 i had so much fun with this, i hope you enjoy! (also fair warning chapter 5 is the last chapter, chapter 6 is just a works cited page. i am not kidding sdfkjs)
> 
> [may i](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r49QJgp-Azc) [interest you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqmIUKoe-q0) [in some](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLGI81mDYTg) [mood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rt4fjt0YNQ) [music!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Hg1Kudd_x4)

Huang Renjun is alone.

He had come to terms with this even before becoming stranded in a battered space shuttle, but he supposes nothing can ever truly prepare a person for the horrific fate of drifting aimlessly amongst the stars.

At least the view was nice, for a little while.

Begrudgingly, Renjun cracks his eyes open. There’s no real reason to wake up and start his day, but he’s well aware that if he hesitates even once, he’ll never get up again. He stares blankly at the padded white walls, repeating the same thing he’s told himself every morning since he woke up in this doomed timeline.

“Just one more day, Renjun.”

The law of inertia: an object in motion stays in motion. It’s one of the few things Renjun still remembers from the two weeks of frenzied crash course physics he sat through before mission FUSE.

He just has to stay in motion.

Renjun peels himself from his sleeping pod, wriggling out of the straps and stepping into the open air. Pushing off from one of the handles mounted on the wall, he makes his way towards the front of the ship. It’s not large by a long shot, but he meanders enough on the way to make it feel like it is.

His fingertips graze across blacked out screens and dusty knobs and useless buttons. The weight of knowing that he would never be able to understand and coordinate them all in the perfect blend needed to get home feels heavy enough to root him to the floor, even in decreased gravity.

Knowing that death is inevitable doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Renjun slides open a compartment in the wall to grab a package of freeze dried strawberries and a small tube of powdered coffee. Perhaps it’s not the perfectly balanced breakfast the nutritionists on Earth would have chosen for him, but it’s all he can manage. It’s not like anyone’s around to nag him, after all.

“My escape pod, my rules,” he mumbles to himself, switching on the rehydration system.

Renjun cracks a wry smile, feeling a bit like a freshly turned teenager mouthing off to his parents for the first time. The corners of his lips drop immediately at the thought of his old life, and he swallows down the lump in his throat, focusing on feeding the mouths of his packages into the spouts.

After mixing up his powdered coffee into the sad excuse of a morning pick-me-up that it is, Renjun settles down into one of the crew seats on the flight deck. It may be demoralizing to sit in front of the vast spread of disconnected switches and levers, but it offers the best view of the Earth. Renjun will take whatever little victories he can get.

He curls up on the seat, a strap wrapped around his waist to hold him down. He munches on his bland strawberries and sips his tasteless coffee and stares down at the planet he can never return to and _just one more day, Renjun._

The stars are beautiful, though. He can see far more of them up here than he ever could on soil, and they’re just as much a comfort to him now as they were when he was five and curious of what lay above, eighteen and terrified of what lay ahead.

Renjun traces familiar shapes on the window, connecting the stars in various patterns as he works his way across the cool glass. When he reaches the end of what he can see, he stretches over to the left again and finds different ways of linking them together.

He doesn’t track how long it has been since the disaster. There’s really no use, seeing as every intact clock on board burns different numbers into his retinas, and the idea of scratching tally marks into the wall like a prisoner makes it feel all too real.

He had also spent his first chunk of time on the pod utterly unconsolable, screaming to the empty air and tearing fistfuls of hair from his skull. By the time his bleeding heart scabbed over, he had completely lost his perception of time without even an inkling of how long he had spent in a haze of distress. Sometimes he relishes in the blissful ignorance, days and hours washing over him without even brushing his awareness, but other times he’s convinced that years have slipped through his fingers, that any hope of rescue is long dead.

Renjun had been alone long enough to start creating his own constellations, if that was any indicator. He presses a finger to the glass again.

Ancient civilizations might have been onto something when they became captivated by stories acted out by the stars above their head. Renjun quietly weaves tales of bravery and perseverance and love from the glowing lights outside his window. Catching familiar patterns out of the corner of his eye gives him something to cling on to, vibrant characters keeping him company in the silent abyss.

One, two, three stars in a slanted line.

Renjun drags his finger across them, then makes a sharp turn to the left to snag another star. If he squints, it could be the strong nose bridge of a warrior. With a little creative license, Renjun can almost see the figure fleshed out in front of him, silhouette defined by pinpricks of distant light.

He imagines the warrior speeding towards him, holding the key to Renjun’s long awaited rescue. He dreams of the figure swooping down to breathe air back into Renjun’s choked lungs from years of swallowing down syrupy thick loneliness, to envelope him in a warm embrace and fight off any hardships leeching away at his strength.

“How pathetic.” Renjun shudders, pulling himself from the window. There wasn’t even a real story to that one, just signs of Renjun’s desperation and waning spirits peeking through. He slaps lightly at his cheeks, hoping that prolonged lack of human contact wouldn’t cause him to completely succumb to delirium.

It may be a little late for that, considering how he’s recently taken to chatting with inanimate objects like old friends, but Renjun has become quite good at denying reality.

Gourmet breakfast finished, Renjun dusts off his hands and drifts lazily through the pod. He’s devised several ways of keeping himself busy, tricking himself into a sense of purpose.

There are a few treasured relics from his old life that he managed to hang on to: an abandoned rubber band ball, his first aid kit, a book of sudoku puzzles, and a couple other small trinkets. Like the necklace Renjun keeps hidden under his shirt, they are often painful reminders of a normalcy he can never return to, rather than a comfort in dark times.

Renjun keeps the drawstring bag firmly closed.

Repetition and memorization soothe his mind the most. He runs over his medical training every afternoon, reciting body parts and step by step procedures until it’s so fresh in his mind he could ace his aerospace medicine exam all over again.

“Increased G-forces drive blood away from the brain, causing the heart to beat faster to retain proper blood flow in the body. Eyes are particularly vulnerable to effects of G-forces, so be aware of tunnel vision or other partial vision reduction from arterial pressure dropping that can precede G-induced loss of consciousness…”

It helps to feel useful, even if there’s no one around to save but himself.

On the worst days, Renjun anchors himself in the entryway between the flight deck and the crew cabin and talks to the pilot chair. Unbelievably, it makes him feel a little less crazy when he’s directing his words to something, _anything_ , rather than empty space. It gives his words a little more weight, makes him feel more real.

That’s what those days come down to-- feeling real.

Renjun speaks about his childhood, reviving old memories in his mind to ensure that they haven’t been lost to the void of space like everything else. He recites his name, the age he approximates himself to be, his hometown, his family, his hobbies, what his apartment on Earth looks like, his favorite color, the cartoon character that served as his first gay awakening-- any bits of information that could cobble together a sense of identity.

Renjun groans, knocking his head against the wall behind him. He doesn’t feel like speaking today, not even to the chair.

_God._ Renjun smacks his palm to his forehead. He’s too downtrodden to even talk to his goddamn _chair._

Maybe he’s already gone mad. He should just embrace it at this point-- it sounds at least a little more fun than desperately grounding himself again and again for no reason. What’s the purpose of hanging on to reality when he could just let loose and allow himself to spiral until-- _if_ he’s found? He’s already given up on figuring out a way to get home on his own, maybe the time would pass faster if he just--

A sharp beep jolts Renjun from his thoughts.

“What the fuck?” Immediately on high alert, Renjun scans the pod for anything that could have triggered the ship’s sensors. Nothing happens on the shuttle without him initiating it-- _ever._

Did the oxygen system finally fail? Did something collide with the ship? He was sure there was nothing for miles and miles around him, but he could be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time his lack of awareness struck disaster for him.

Is this it? Will he die here, now?

_Finally?_

Beyond the cloud of panic settling over his mind, Renjun begins to tune into a familiar sound.

Heart thumping in his chest, he listens closer. It sounds like air being pumped through the pod’s pressurization system, a certain high pitched _whoosh_ that he became well accustomed to during his original mission.

Driven entirely by force of habit, Renjun’s shaking fingers land on the airlock latch.

There can’t be anything-- any _one_ \-- out there. Renjun knows this. It’s just a shard of debris lodged in the outer airlock door.

It has to be.

He bites back the knowledge that airlock systems have to be manually operated so mistakes like that don’t happen. He’s dizzy enough as it is.

As the inner hatch of the airlock slowly opens, Renjun can feel his chest grow tighter and tighter, breaths struggling to rip from his lungs. He’s nearly hyperventilating by the time the airlock is fully pressurized and accessible, revealing the looming figure within.

Oh, God, he’s fully hallucinating now. There’s no coming back from this.

The image of an astronaut, fitted in a light blue padded spacesuit and a tinted helmet, advances towards him with large movements. Renjun cowers further back into the pod, a singular strangled yelp tearing through his throat, and the figure immediately stops.

Their gloved hands come up to their neck, fiddling with the latches and clasps connecting the helmet to the neck ring. With a mechanical click, the helmet pops free and the stranger tears it from their head.

Underneath the equipment is a boy.

His dark hair is sweaty and matted to his face, ruffled at the top from the static electricity in the suit. There’s an almost impressive blend of shock, concern, discomfort, confusion, and vague horror flashing across his face at high speeds, eyebrows scrunched up so hard it looks painful.

Pressed up against the farthest wall of the shuttle, Renjun can’t even focus on the fact that after months, maybe even _years_ of solitude, after resigning himself to oblivion deep down, after accepting somewhere in his heart that he would die without experiencing human contact ever again, there’s a fucking _person in his ship._

All Renjun can think about as his vision narrows is how the stranger’s strong profile seems to mirror the warrior in his daydream.

“Um, I’m really sorry,” the boy ventures, looking equally as stunned as Renjun, “I did try to knock.”

Renjun passes out.

* * *

“Oh God, what do I do? What _did_ I do? What the fuck--”

Renjun surfaces to the sound of high pitched panicking. His body instantly goes rigid at the unfamiliar presence of another being in his shuttle. He swears he can hear breathing, too.

This must be the most realistic dream he’s ever had. The attention to detail is commendable.

“You’re awake! Are you okay?”

Renjun’s eyes fly open only to be met with a face inches from his own. Cross eyed, he jolts upright, smashing his forehead against the other person. Both parties swear and cradle their temples.

Renjun pulls his hand back, staring at his fingertips in shock before turning his gaze on the intruder. There’s still a faint buzzing in his forehead from where their skin collided. He touches the sore spot again, unable to believe it.

It felt so _real_.

The stranger had jumped a respectable distance away, hands outstretched like he’s afraid Renjun will faint again. He’s rocking on the balls of his feet, sometimes overshooting his strength and lifting into the air in the decreased gravity.

Renjun tilts his head. The stranger has already wrangled off his suit, leaving him in a rumpled blue pullover and sweatpants as if he just rolled (floated?) out of bed. He’s maintained that same mixture of conflicting emotions on his face, though shock and worry seem to be emerging as the dominant expressions.

Renjun means to demand who the intruder is. He definitely plans on grilling this stranger harshly, defending himself through any means necessary because while he is stunned and very overwhelmed by the sight of another human person, he has no clue who the _fuck_ just broke into his long lost space shuttle and what he wants.

Instead, all that Renjun can squeak out is a terrified, slightly bitter, “Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”

Renjun bristles when the stranger blinks at him, all wide eyed as if _Renjun_ is the weird one here. The nerve. The boy’s gaze drifts down to his casual clothes, then immediately snaps back to Renjun with a slight sheepishness.

“Sorry, I just assumed that since...well, never mind that right now.” A friendly, albeit nervous, smile springs up on his face as the boy offers a hand to Renjun, “My name is Lee Jeno, second flight engineer for AQUILA-3, of mission AIR. It’s nice to meet you, despite the...circumstances.”

Renjun stares at the outstretched hand, the cogs in his brain struggling to crank out a coherent thought.

_This is not happening._

Any other person trapped in indefinite solitude for months on end without any hope of human contact would be jumping for joy right now. However, no matter how desperately Renjun wants to cling onto this boy, to relish in the feeling of another person in his arms, to experience something he thought he never would have again, he’s fucking _overwhelmed._

The intruder-- _Jeno_ \-- wilts at his hesitance, arm dropping. Despite his wariness, Renjun’s reaction to the hopeful, puppy-like smile faltering from Jeno’s face is instinctual.

Renjun’s hand shoots out, brushing Jeno’s fingertips. It isn’t anything close to a proper handshake, but the simple gesture already sends electricity shooting up his arm, shoulders hiking up defensively.

Jeno feels warm. Renjun feels dizzy.

“Renjun,” he croaks, snatching his hand back to his chest, “My name is Renjun. This is...sorry, this is all a lot for me right now. I don’t-- I don’t understand? Why are you here? How did you find me?”

He’d really rather not faint again-- once was embarrassing enough. Clearly, he’d forgotten how to make a good first impression.

“Find you?” Jeno’s eyebrows draw together even harder, if that’s possible, “Um. I’m sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?”

Renjun’s head fucking hurts. Maybe the throbbing is just a consequence of smashing his skull against Jeno’s earlier. Or, maybe it’s from how this situation seems to be shaking out like Jeno is just some random astronaut who happened to stumble across Renjun’s ship and doesn’t have any more of a clue about getting home than Renjun does.

Renjun laughs blankly. That can’t be it, right?

“Where are my manners,” he says weakly, sliding open the compartment behind him. With trembling fingers, he holds out a tube of powdered coffee to Jeno, “Care for a drink?”

* * *

There are really only two places to sit in a shuttle built for one. Jeno perches uncomfortably in the pilot’s chair while Renjun collapses onto his bed.

The shuttle’s single sleeping pod is built high into the wall, a little box carved out among storage units and machinery. A thin pad covers the glorified shelf, and there’s a sleeping bag and a few pouches for toiletries strapped down onto it. A retractable divider runs along the outer edge of the pod, where it snaps into the ceiling to close off the quarters and provide some sense of privacy.

Renjun struggles to not yank up the divider and hide away, fingers toying with the button on the wall. He can’t help his knee jerk reaction, even if Jeno looks a bit like a kicked puppy every time Renjun avoids his gaze.

Renjun grips the underside of the shelf to keep from drifting off, legs swinging restlessly. His head is scrambled in so many different directions that he doesn’t know where to start. Luckily, Jeno takes the lead.

“So, Renjun,” Jeno trails off awkwardly, probably searching for a way to soften his words. He speaks like he’s interacting with a spooked animal, which Renjun supposes is fair enough, “How...How did you get here? How _long_ have you been here?”

Renjun quirks a brow. He doesn’t know what he expected, but he had always hoped that the mission operators back on Earth knew he was alive and just hadn’t managed to make contact with him yet. It’s a bit disheartening to realize that Jeno didn’t seem to know that someone was even missing.

“My name is Huang Renjun, flight surgeon for shuttle LYRA-1. I became stranded whenever mission FUSE went wrong, I guess. I don’t know how long ago it was. The pod is damaged and I’m no pilot _or_ engineer, so I’ve just been...waiting.”

_Rotting._

Jeno’s breath hitches audibly, and Renjun tears his eyes off the floor to check his reaction. An emotion Renjun can’t quite place swims in his eyes, lurking below the pure shock and bafflement. His gaze bores desperately into Renjun, searching him for answers Renjun isn’t sure he has.

“FUSE?” Jeno repeats softly, knuckles whitening against the arms of the chair. “You-- You’re from LYRA-1?”

“Yeah, I am. I mean, I was.” Renjun swallows down his grief, unable to think for too long about his original ship-- his original _crew._

“FUSE: For United Stellar Expansion,” Renjun allows long-suppressed bitterness to seep into his tone, one hand waving sarcastically in the air, “The groundbreaking first collaboration between longtime rivals China and Korea. A great idea in theory, but too rushed for its own good. Fucking polititians.”

Renjun falls silent. He doesn’t think he can stomach talking about the disaster, but fortunately it doesn’t look like Jeno wants to hear it, either. Not a trace of that fragile optimism remains on the boy’s face as he stares into empty space.

Self consciously, Renjun rubs at the blotches of burned skin on his left arm. The marks have faded quite a bit, but they are lasting souvenirs from a memory Renjun has tried desperately to erase, flooded with tears and acrid smoke.

If he lets his mind wander for too long, he can almost feel a phantom hand slipping from his grasp.

“Eleven months and three days,” Jeno breaks the silence suddenly. Renjun’s head snaps up, but this time Jeno is the one avoiding Renjun’s gaze. His eyes look a little shiny, but it may just be the harsh lights reflecting in them.

“W-What?”

“Renjun, you’ve been stuck here for eleven months and three days.”

_Oh._

Renjun deflates against the padded wall of his sleeping pod, knees coming up to hug close to his chest. He wraps his arms around himself, blinking rapidly to ward away tears. His chest tightens with grief, sorrow choking his lungs.

Renjun is lost, again.

For the second time, Renjun feels his world crumble. He doesn’t know how to process this new information; he hasn’t processed anything since the explosion.

Suddenly, everything around him seems frighteningly foreign and unfamiliar _._ The normalcy he’s forced himself into, the false sense of security he created with _just one more day, Renjun,_ has been torn away. He’s never felt so vulnerable, curled up in his tiny sleeping pod.

The awkward pair sit in charged silence, both too far deep in their own heads to care.

_Eleven months and three days, and no one came for Renjun._

* * *

They don’t sleep for the first night.

It’s common for astronauts, especially in unregulated conditions, to adopt odd sleep schedules. Renjun has fallen into the habit of just crawling into his sleeping pod and passing out whenever necessary, unless he feels particularly hopeless and wants to speed up time a bit.

Renjun is used to the irregular rhythm, but Jeno looks more and more haggard as time ticks on. The boy won’t stop chewing on his lip and fidgeting with his fingers. Every so often, he takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself to ask Renjun something. Without fail, he always just deflates and goes back to playing with his fingers.

It’s strange. Renjun knows he should be more wary of this complete and utter stranger who fell into his lap, but he can already feel himself start to care for the boy. It must be a proximity thing.

Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes. What’s the worst that can happen?

Renjun has no idea how much time has passed before he hauls himself out of his pod. He still doesn’t know where to _begin_ with coping with any of this, but if Huang Renjun knows anything, it’s how to keep moving forward.

Plus, he really doesn’t like Jeno’s empty eyes.

Renjun floats over to the flight deck, latching onto a protruding panel and guiding himself to the floor. Jeno still seems to be a million miles away.

He waves a hand in front of the boy’s face, evidently scaring the living shit out of him if the shriek he emits is anything to go by. Renjun draws back in shock, but can’t keep the amused smile off his face.

“Don’t laugh at me! I didn’t see you come over,” Jeno pouts, crossing his arms.

“My bad,” Renjun stifles an awkward smile, “I’m not really used to, um, other people. Shocker, I know.”

“Renjun…” Jeno’s face softens, but Renjun waves it off. He knows he can’t handle stewing in his pity party any longer for the foreseeable future. If he breaks for real, it’ll be impossible to put the pieces back together.

“So, want to tell me why you’re here? And, hopefully, the details of your super smart escape plan?”

Jeno flushes, one hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. “Well. Um. It’s funny, actually.”

Renjun does not like where this is going. He tells Jeno that.

“I was sent up as part of mission AIR: Advanced Interstellar Repair. We had some far reaching satellites and probes to fix up from debris damages. It was important for research, but most space mission centers aren’t operating anymore, so it took forever to authorize. Man, my crew is gonna be so mad at me for running off after all that work.” Jeno laughs dryly.

“I technically wasn’t scheduled to walk, but I spotted something out of the corner of my eye and I just...I couldn’t ignore it.”Jeno’s gaze unfocuses for a second, forcing away the desperation edging his tone. “None of my crewmates believed me, so I suited myself up quickly and went out as far as I could on my own. I had to detach my tether and use my SAFER jet to propel me the rest of the way, but I made it.”

“And you found me.”

“Yeah,” Jeno swallows hard, “Yeah. I found you, in this little unmarked ship, drifting all alone.”

Renjun hums, bringing his knees up to his chest again. Jeno seems smart, but incredibly reckless to abandon his crew and ship for such a random shot in the dark. Renjun can’t fathom why Jeno would disregard his safety so blatantly just to investigate a tiny blip on their radar. It doesn’t make sense, but he doesn’t pry. Not yet.

Renjun wonders what Jeno wanted to find so badly that he would risk his life without a moment’s hesitation.

“How do you plan on getting back?”

Jeno stares out the pilot’s window. It really does have the best view-- so good, in fact, that if there was a ship around, they’d surely see it.

Beyond the glass is as lonely as ever.

Jeno seems to know this, if the slump of his shoulders is any indication. He presses a fingertip to the window. The corners of Renjun’s lips twitch at the familiar motion, but smooth out again as Jeno turns to him with a tight smile.

“Looks like we’re out of range. Mind if I stick around a while?”

Renjun studies him with a sigh. They’re both aware that neither of them have much of a choice, but a roommate really isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to Renjun. He’s pretty sure he’s already hit rock bottom anyways.

“Well, my abandoned space shuttle is your abandoned space shuttle, I suppose. Feel free to start brainstorming ways to keep yourself busy. You’ll need them.”

Renjun stays cross-legged on the floor while Jeno pushes off to explore the pod.

It’s weird, having another body occupy the small space after so long. Renjun has to ground himself each time Jeno rattles a knob or knocks something loose from a compartment. Every little thing overwhelms Renjun’s rusty senses. He clings to the constellations lurking outside to block everything out, including his thoughts.

Eventually, Jeno realizes how badly Renjun is flinching at every move he makes. He creeps back to the flight deck, concern wrinkling his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Renjun, am I bothering you?”

Renjun presses his cheek to one knee, staring at the underside of the main control board. “No, you’re okay. I’m just...adjusting. Not used to human noise and all. Human anything, really.”

Renjun has no clue how he isn’t absolutely breaking down right now. He suspects the festering emotions from the jarring turn his life has taken will blow up in his face soon enough, but he’s okay with bottling everything up for the moment in the name of preserving his last scrap of sanity.

“Oh,” Jeno blinks, doe eyes shimmering with sadness, “Wow, yeah. This must be...well, almost a year of isolation is...I’d be overwhelmed, too. I totally understand.”

“Do you now,” Renjun deadpans, lifting a brow. He suppresses a faint smile at the way Jeno squirms, the boy’s cheeks reddening as he tries to save himself.

“Well, not _exactly_ \-- you know what I mean!” Jeno crosses his arms, seemingly searching for the right words. Language doesn’t appear to be his strongest suit, so he drops the subject and curls up as close to Renjun as comfortable. He’s quiet for a while, allowing Renjun’s mind to clear.

The steady rise and fall of his breathing is more soothing than Renjun would like to admit.

“Renjun?” Jeno tilts his head, tangled hair falling into his eyes. He studies Renjun’s face and body language, waiting for the okay to continue. Renjun nods to him, chest warming at the thoughtful gesture.

“I know we just met, and this is a really fucking weird situation. Like, I’m still very much reeling from it all, but...I realize that this must be harder on you than I could ever imagine. I don’t want my presence here to be even more of a burden on you, so please communicate with me.” Jeno bites his lip. “I’m not the best with words, but you can talk to me whenever you want-- I’m a good listener, promise! You may not have asked for a roommate, but I can try to help, at least.”

“I dunno, I _was_ thinking about posting an ad for a roommate on, like, space Craigslist or something.” Renjun flashes Jeno a genuine smile, and the boy visibly relaxes. “Seriously, thank you, Jeno. I...When it’s fully processed that I’m not alone anymore, I’ll make you eat your words. You’ll never hear the end of my complaining.”

“Well if that’s what you’re going to ask for rent, I can’t argue. A deal is a deal,” Jeno laughs, but it peters out quickly as another uncertain look crosses his face. “By the way, Renjun, I’ve noticed that there are a lot of supplies here. Like, _way_ more food than there should be for a trip this long.”

Renjun winces, staring at his hands. He wonders when they got so bony. “I...Yeah, I guess it’s been a little difficult to work up an appetite with imminent death on the brain constantly. It’s pointless, you know?”

What was he _doing?_

Apparently Renjun’s brain to mouth filter was destroyed along with the rest of his social skills in isolation. He _just_ met Jeno and here he is, spilling all the gruesome details about how utterly fucking hopeless his life has been. _Pathetic._ So what if Jeno just told him he’s willing to listen to Renjun’s sorrows? If Renjun remembers one thing from civilization it’s that no one ever says what they fucking _mean_ \--

Jeno’s hand catches Renjun’s wrist before he can smack himself in the face. They stare at each other with equally wide eyes before Jeno yanks him to his feet. The lingering touch nearly burns on Renjun’s skin, but he desperately hopes Jeno won’t let go.

“No more of that, Huang Renjun! We’re going to get you back on your feet.” Jeno sounds so confident, eyes sparkling with determination as he thumps his free hand on his chest. “Plus, there’s no reason to be hopeless anymore. You have me now, and I’m sure we’ll find a way out of this. Now, let’s go organize that pantry!”

Jeno tugs Renjun over to the rehydration system. He doesn’t let go.

* * *

A certain problem becomes very evident at nighttime.

Renjun and Jeno find themselves both standing in the crew cabin, staring straight ahead at the sleeping pod. Every so often they exchange awkward, fleeting glances.

“So...this shuttle really was built for one, huh?” Jeno says quietly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Renjun bobs his head nervously. “It sure was…”

They fall silent.

“It’s your ship, you should get the bed--”

“You know what, I can just take the chair--”

They turn and speak at the same time, immediately cutting themselves off and snapping their gazes straight ahead again. Renjun can only hope Jeno is suffering the same flushed cheeks that he is. It’s only fair.

Renjun sighs deeply before climbing onto the ledge. Jeno nods quickly and shoots him two thumbs up, turning to make his way to the flight deck. Before he can push off, Renjun clears his throat.

“You can just...Like, I don’t mind if _you_ don’t mind, if you know what I mean…” Renjun can’t force the words out, hoping that his point got across anyways. He refuses to meet Jeno’s gaze, even when the boy keeps bouncing around to get in his line of sight. Asshole.

“Huang Renjun, is that an offer to join you?” Jeno gasps as if scandalized. Renjun knows he’s just doing it to ease the awkward tension, but still. _Asshole._

“Don’t be difficult,” Renjun scowls, fingers hovering threateningly over the divider button. Jeno laughs and surrenders, but the teasing expression melts away as he approaches the pod.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I’ll be okay. I need to adjust to human contact anyways, if you’re so certain about being my knight in shining space suit.” Renjun shifts over, patting the space next to him.

“That’s right. We’ll make it home.” Jeno hesitantly climbs in next to him, pressing the button to raise the divider. “Sweet dreams, Renjun.”

The security strap and the sleeping bag are just big enough for the two of them, though there’s not much extra space. Renjun is all too aware of their proximity— his mind zeroes in on the way their arms press together, how he can almost feel Jeno’s chest move and pick up on the sound of his breathing evening out.

It’s much better than tormenting himself with his thoughts until he falls asleep.

For the first time in a long time, Renjun dreams.

* * *

_Dizzy._

_Renjun soaks a cotton ball with antiseptic, watching as Doyoung tugs off his shirt and necklace. The older man winces at the motion, making Renjun sigh. He grabs the discarded items before Doyoung can move them._

_He had woken with a headache, and the pulsing just won’t ease._

_“Stop moving, you’re going to irritate it further,” Renjun clicks his tongue, dabbing the medicine over Doyoung’s collarbones, “I can’t believe that jet blew up in your face like that. You’re lucky this is the worst of your injuries. It’ll probably leave a scar, though.”_

_He turns to cut a piece of gauze from the roll. His knuckles feel stiff as he peels the bandage off, and he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips, fluttering fast._

_“Can’t be helped, I suppose. We’re all still getting used to things. I don’t think this was covered in training.” Doyoung’s voice sounds a little fainter than usual. When Renjun looks up, he still has that fond, brotherly smile playing on his lips._

_Smoke._

_Renjun scoffs. “Was anything?”_

_He pauses, staring at the first aid bag on his lap. What was he doing again?_

_“So spirited, Renjun. You’re a good kid.” Doyoung ruffles Renjun’s hair with a laugh, eyes curving up in crescent moons. Renjun laughs weakly. Oh, right. Gauze._

_Renjun has steady hands._

_“You woke me up, by the way,” he complains, blinking the spots out of his eyes, “Was it really that urgent?”_

_Silence stretches between them, so long that Renjun wonders if he should repeat the question._

_Sluggishly, Doyoung tilts his head. “I don’t know. The solar panels stopped working. It’s a big problem for electrolysis, which creates oxygen from water. Ten said that we should have enough spare oxygen tanks hooked up to the circulation system to hold us over until we can get everything running again, though, so don’t worry.”_

_Renjun has steady hands. He knows he does. It’s one of the things Renjun prides himself on, this ability to stitch up a wound cleanly and evenly._

_How odd, then, that he can’t quite get the gauze on the right spot._

_“Sorry, I lost my train of thought. The stress must be giving me a headache,” Doyoung laughs hollowly. “It’s not super important, but we wanted to fix it before we went any further, just in case something goes sour down the line.”_

_Doyoung doesn’t seem to mind— or notice— Renjun’s clumsiness. He’s patient and calm, now, but the burn mark keeps evading Renjun’s touch. Even when his vision tunnels and the wound is all he can see, he still misses._

_Dizzy._

_Doyoung glances out the small window in the crew cabin. “Everyone else is still out there. I hope they figure out what’s wrong.”_

_Renjun’s eyes sting._

_Doyoung won’t stop moving. Renjun places one hand on his shoulder. From this position, the shadowy circuit boards on the flight deck beyond them look frighteningly humanoid._

_He can’t breathe._

_Renjun blinks, then blinks again. Doyoung brings a hand to his temple. Renjun doesn’t admonish him for the movement, and Doyoung doesn’t wince._

_Shaky hands. Blue fingertips._

_A small beep sounds from the flight deck. No, it didn’t. He must be mistaken. Right?_

_The lights in the cabin look dimmer than usual. Renjun asks Doyoung about it, but the man just shrugs with long, slow movements. There’s a flicker of panic in his eyes as he struggles to his feet._

_Smoke._

_“Stop...” The word tumbles out of Renjun’s mouth, but he can barely feel it. Blindly, he pats around for his medical bag._

_Doyoung grabs his free hand. There’s something in his other hand, but he can’t remember what it is. Based on how Doyoung’s hand curls protectively around Renjun’s closed fist, he assumes he’s meant to keep it safe._

_By the time Renjun registers the crackling coming from the mid fuselage of the ship and the heat washing over his skin, he knows it’s too late._

_When he opens his eyes again, he’s alone, fingers pressed to the escape pod glass as he watches his ship burst into flames._

* * *

Renjun’s eyes fly open, choking on his breath as panic launches him from deep sleep.

Fragments of the dream slip through his fingers, consciousness washing it clean from his memory. It lingers, though, in his shivering shoulders and racing heartbeat. Renjun watches his hands shake in front of his eyes.

He needs to get out.

Unknown fear still slamming against his ribcage, Renjun sits up quickly. The sleeping bag rustles around him as he reaches to open the capsule. He almost forgets about the second body in the pod until a hand lands on his elbow.

“Mmnghn, early…” Jeno mumbles, voice thick and groggy with sleep.

Renjun yelps when Jeno tugs him back down. The wind rushes out of him as he lands half draped over Jeno’s chest, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Eyes still closed, Jeno’s hand finds Renjun’s hair, gently working his fingers through the tangles like he’s petting a cat.

Renjun’s thoughts freeze in place along with his body. As startled as he is, he can’t find it in himself to cringe away from the touch.

“Don’t cry,” Jeno’s breathing evens out again, barely stirring except for a drowsy yawn, “Please...don’t cry...”

With a sharp gasp, Renjun’s hands find his damp cheeks. He gapes at the droplets dotting his fingertips, unaware that he had even been crying.

After it becomes evident that Jeno will neither wake up anytime soon nor release Renjun from his hold, Renjun cautiously melts into the soothing motions. Gently rocked by the rise and fall of Jeno’s chest beneath him, he lets himself drift away.

This time, he doesn’t dream.

* * *

When Renjun wakes, he’s alone.

Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he gingerly touches the top of his head. He feels oddly cold, the comforting sensation that lulled him to sleep fading faster than he’d like. Rolling a strand of hair between his fingertips, he wriggles out of the sleeping bag.

Perhaps the whole thing was just a dream.

Renjun stretches. He shakes his head to dislodge his bizarre thoughts before climbing out of the pod to wash up. Once he’s dressed, he finds Jeno rummaging in the cabinets by the rehydration system. Renjun tilts his head, still a little unused to the sight of another person.

“Good morning!” Jeno flashes him a bright smile, half moon eyes twinkling in the fluorescent lights. Renjun swallows hard, but he doesn’t know why.

He grumbles wordlessly, padding over to Jeno with crossed arms. Jeno fumbles with a few silvery foil packages before handing Renjun some.

“Sleep well?”

Renjun’s eyes flicker to Jeno’s shoulder, then back up. The other boy is still grabbing things from the food storage, so he doesn’t notice the crimson tearing across Renjun’s cheeks.

Faintly, Renjun remembers the tracks of tears staining his face last night, the dampness staining the neckline of his sleeping shirt. He resists the urge to touch his cheeks again, just to make sure all the evidence has been scrubbed away.

“Yeah, totally,” Renjun croaks. He’s not even sure if he’s lying or not.

Jeno forces a decent breakfast into him. Renjun pretends to complain, but the idea of another human being caring for his well being is so jarring that he can barely keep up the act. He downs a healthy protein shake with only a few glares thrown in Jeno’s direction. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he swats Jeno‘s arm for laughing at his disgusted faces.

Jeno shakes his head with a fond smile, “God, you’re just like my crewmate Chenle. We’d have to track him down and force feed him his veggies. Jaemin was usually the head of the operation, but it’d be a three person job at least.”

Renjun swallows, toying with the foil in his hands. Part of him wants to ask about Jeno’s crew on AQUILA-3, if only to keep his mind off the hopelessness creeping over him, but he doesn’t want to dredge up any painful reminders of Jeno’s separation from them.

Jeno still has an optimistic twinkle in his eye, though, a lightness to his steps beyond what the decreased gravity of the shuttle provides. At least for now, he seems to be sticking by his declaration that they’ll make it home.

Helplessness hasn’t overcome him yet. Renjun is kind of jealous.

Perhaps it’s too early to pry into each other's lives, but they only have each other. If Renjun is going to share a bed with this boy until they either die or get rescued, he might as well get close to him. It’s not like they have much else to do, and Jeno has such a comforting aura that Renjun can’t help but want to learn more about him.

It’s terrifying, this craving to know and be known. Everything still feels so fragile, like at any moment Renjun could wake up alone in his damnation once again. Allowing Jeno in is a risk-- Renjun doesn’t know if he could survive abandonment a second time.

Renjun unfurls so his body is angled towards Jeno. “Who is Jaemin?”

Jeno lights up, excited eyes disappearing into those half moons again as he launches into several anecdotes about his wacky but kind crewmates. He doesn’t ask about Renjun’s own crew, but it’s understandably a far more somber topic that neither want to touch.

“So then we were all like, no, Donghyuck, please don’t throw the powdered spaghetti sauce packets into the shower capsules just to see what happens, we know what will happen and it will _not_ be good, but of course it’s Donghyuck so he never _listens_ \--”

It’s nice. Renjun rests his cheek on his hand, relaxing into his chair as he watches Jeno gesture enthusiastically. His voice washes over Renjun like ocean waves eroding harsh rock. It fills a silence Renjun had grown to suppress from his awareness, but he suspects had been eating him up from the inside.

Jeno’s stories give him something to focus on, much like Renjun’s constellations. It feels warm, like he’s somehow connected to these faceless people through Jeno’s words.

“Wow,” Renjun says, sitting back in his seat, “Your team sounds like a handful.”

Sadness briefly flickers into Jeno’s eyes, but it’s gone in a split second. Renjun envies Jeno’s ability to let despair pass by instead of letting it snag on his bones and sink into his skin and poison his mind.

“Yeah, they’re the best! I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

There’s no waver in Jeno’s voice, no _someday_ or even _hopefully_ tacked on at the end.

Renjun chews his lip, offering up a weak smile. He doesn’t want to burst Jeno’s bubble, not yet, because this must all be some sort of defense mechanism. Renjun will be there when Jeno buckles under the futility of their situation, because no one can deny the inevitable truth forever.

They’ll die here. It’s not a matter of _if_ , but _when_.

Renjun didn’t have anyone to catch him when he fell into despair. It’s like he’s laying in a crumpled heap at rock bottom, watching Jeno tiptoe closer and closer to the edge. He knows he can’t stop Jeno from falling, but he can certainly cushion the blow.

“Do you sing, Renjun?”

“ _Huh?_ ” Renjun jumps at the question. He used to love music, many years and many thousands of miles ago, but that Renjun, the Renjun that was bright and brimming with youthful hope, is long gone.

“You have a nice speaking voice, so I figured you might like to sing,” Jeno shrugs, “My crewmates and I used to do karaoke and dance parties when we felt too cooped up on our ship. It’s okay if you don’t, but we should try it sometime! I really don’t think anything can be worse than Jaemin’s rendition of Toxic by Britney Spears, so don’t worry too much. I’m in no place to judge.”

Renjun avoids eye contact at all costs, “I mean...I used to sing, but not anymore.”

“Why not?”

Renjun risks a glance and ah, fuck. Jeno is _pouting_. He’s pouting so hard his lower lip is sticking out and _goddamnit._

“I can’t believe this,” Renjun grumbles. Jeno grabs him by the hand and drags him over to the crew cabin since it has the most space.

“I’ll dance if you can sing! Do you know any Twice songs?” Jeno starts stretching his arms dramatically like he’s gearing up for a big race.

Renjun bites back a laugh, but he can’t stop an embarrassed smile from playing on his lips as he softly sings, “I wanna know, know, know, know, what is love~”

“Perfect!”

Jeno tries to copy the dance moves in the lowered gravity, giggling when he jumps a little too hard and floats into the cabin wall. Renjun is content to watch him goof around for a while, reflecting on what a strange turn his life had taken, but then he sees something and he just can’t--

“Hey, the dance break does _not_ start with the left leg!”

Renjun wants to take the outburst back as soon as it breaks from his lips. Jeno stops dancing, eyes wide as he advances on Renjun, who shrinks back when he sees the slow smile spreading across his face. Jeno catches Renjun’s wrist and pulls him to the middle of the floor.

“Renjun, you’ve been holding out on me! We have to start over now, because clearly you’re more of a Twice expert than you’re letting on.”

Renjun corrects Jeno’s form and they giggle through the chorus together. There’s a warmth in his chest that feels almost unnatural with how long it’s been absent from his life. He can nearly feel the bright fire of enthusiasm within Jeno trying to reach out and light a flame in Renjun.

He knows the light won’t catch. The wick of Renjun’s hope is far too waterlogged and damaged to be saved, but he appreciates the effort.

Dancing to roughly recreated bubblegum pop songs in a cramped shuttle lost to space and time feels utterly surreal. It’s certainly the silliest thing he’s done in years, even before he became stranded on the pod with only his thoughts to keep him company. As both of them throw themselves into the cute dance moves and warbling melodies, Renjun can feel himself let go, a genuine grin springing to his lips.

“ _I wanna know! I wanna know! I wanna know, know, know, know, what is love!”_

He can definitely see why this was a popular pastime on Jeno’s ship.

He can’t hold himself back from belting the bridge, hands clutching at his chest as he sings his heart out. When they finish the song, Jeno is staring at him with awe.

“You have a wonderful voice, Renjun!”

The compliment is so earnest and genuine that Renjun flushes bright pink. He waves it off, but he can’t deny how good it felt to sing again. He didn’t realize how much of himself he had truly lost in this floating prison cell.

Renjun briefly glances at the pilot’s chair. He has a feeling he won’t be needing it anymore. As terrifying as it may feel, he has a much better conversation partner now.

* * *

Time seems to pass slower ever since Jeno arrived.

Perhaps it’s just that Renjun’s entire sense of reality was warped when he was by himself and having another person as a frame of reference makes everything feel different, but he’s acutely aware of every passing minute that brings him closer to Jeno.

“What else do you do for fun?”

Jeno is floating around the crew cabin, combing through the ship for the fourth time that day. It’s the first time either of them have spoken in a few hours, the silence only broken by the sounds of Jeno fiddling with compartments or Renjun whispering under his breath.

Renjun hugs his knees tighter to his chest. He’s curled up on the flight deck again, watching Jeno explore as if he’s going to find something new this time. There’s nothing useful waiting to be found, but it seems to be giving Jeno a sense of purpose, so he stays quiet.

“Other than the rubber band ball that I had to abandon because I ran out of rubber bands? I just talk to myself. It’s the only way to keep myself sane, so I wouldn’t exactly call it a fun pastime.”

Maybe it’s an odd thing to admit to, but it feels only fair that Jeno knows how unhinged his new roommate is.

Jeno deserts his search mission, springing his way over to the flight deck. “What do you talk about?”

“Myself, mostly, though there’s not much to say. Basic facts about my life, my family, my training-- whatever I can remember. I’m…” Renjun trails off, an unpleasant emotion bubbling in his stomach, “I’m kind of afraid that I’ll forget one day if I don’t keep reminding myself, and then I’ll truly be alone.”

Jeno’s fingers twitch against the hem of his shirt, pulling aimlessly at some loose threads. It’s one of the sets of standard clothing that Renjun found deep in the ship’s storage. There are far more extra clothes than Renjun would have expected on an escape pod, but he won’t complain. The paper thin shirt fits Jeno far better than Renjun’s spare does. Renjun tries not to stare.

“I can help you, if you want.”

“What do you mean?” Renjun’s eyebrows draw together, puzzled. What is there for Jeno to do? Renjun is a lost cause; he’d come to terms with that by now. He’s far beyond ‘help’.

Jeno straightens up, crossing his legs and clasping his hands in his lap to give Renjun his full attention. “You don’t have to carry all of that anymore. If you feel comfortable, you can share some memories with me, and I’ll keep them safe for you. You don’t have to worry about losing yourself because I’ll be here to bring you back. Consider me a backup plan, if you want it.”

Renjun’s knees fall away from his chest, eyes wide with surprise. He’s certainly still afraid of opening his mouth, undeniably wary of the strange warmth worming its way into his bones. And yet, Jeno looks so caring, so inviting with his arms spread wide, ready to accept whatever Renjun has to offer.

It does sound nice to have a backup plan. Isn’t that the smart thing to do, anyways?

“Okay. Okay,” Renjun’s voice is weak and crackly with nerves as he speaks, but Jeno doesn’t point it out. “My name is Huang Renjun. I am...well, I suppose I’d be twenty-two now, but I can’t be certain. I was born and raised in China, but moved to Korea when I was ten for my parents’ jobs. I’m an only child, but I have a lot of cousins.”

“Was it hard moving to Korea?” Jeno prompts him when Renjun’s train of thought derails. Renjun can’t help but smile at the genuine interest Jeno shows him.

It feels good to be listened to.

“I missed China, but I grew up speaking both Mandarin and Korean, so the actual transition wasn’t too bad. Being fluent in both basically rocketed me to the top of the list for candidates for mission FUSE, so I had that advantage, but it is funny how many stories I have of times when people assumed I couldn’t understand Korean…”

Renjun takes Jeno on a whirlwind through his childhood, spouting off every random fact about his life that crosses into his head. He talks about the time he gave himself a concussion in fourth grade by getting too ambitious on his rollerblades, and details that particular week in training where he pulled three all-nighters in a row and still managed to ace the demonstration portion of his final exam. He shares his love for painting, how deeply he misses his friends on Earth, and his initial drive to become involved with space medicine.

Jeno bounces some of his own childhood stories off Renjun’s anecdotes, leading them into a heated discussion about what animal makes for the perfect pet. Jeno describes his three cats in incredible fond detail, and Renjun makes fun of him for owning both a cat allergy and three whole cats.

Jeno didn’t ask him to, but Renjun files away everything he says for safe keeping. It’s only fair to return the favor and keep Jeno grounded once he falls from his foolish hope.

The conversation fizzles out after a while, both boys basking in the nostalgia of long lost memories. Renjun tries to ignore the taste of bittersweet yearning staining the back of his throat, but it surges in his chest.

There’s an ache in his heart thinking about his life on Earth, a life he isn’t sure is even there for him to return to. Throughout his isolation, he had always tried to pull himself back from the dangerous edge of speculation. Now, though, faced with someone who could potentially hold the answers Renjun craves, he can’t hold back.

“Is anyone looking for me?”

The atmosphere sombers as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but Renjun can’t bring himself to take them back. He _needs_ to know. Has his family kept up hope? Have search missions combed through the depths of space for survivors of the wreck?

Does anyone remember Huang Renjun?

“Oh,” Jeno croaks, devastation tearing across his face, “Oh Renjun, I...”

Pity and sorrow tug the corners of Jeno’s lips down, and something uneasy creeps into Renjun’s gut. He can see the regret in Jeno’s eyes, like Renjun has forced him to turn over a stone that he would rather have kept forever locked away from the prying eyes of the world.

He looks like he wants to shield Renjun from pain, but they both know they can’t avoid the truth forever. Jeno’s hands slip into his own as he speaks, gaze heavy with a grief Renjun cannot process.

“Renjun, you were pronounced dead the day of the disaster.”

Both of them are shaking, but Jeno squeezes tight enough to keep Renjun’s feet on the ground, at least for now.

“I-- I don’t understand.” Tears spring to Renjun’s eyes, but he tries to blink them back. A hysterical chuckle rips from his lips as the words sink in further, making Jeno wince. “H-How could they possibly claim that? No one knows what happened! Did-- did they even _try_?”

His voice breaks on the last word, tears spilling over to his cheeks. Jeno’s thumb brushes them away. Renjun didn’t notice that Jeno had cupped his cheek in one hand, the other still clutched in Renjun’s desperate grip.

Jeno searches Renjun’s face. Renjun can’t break eye contact, but he still doesn’t know what Jeno is looking for.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Jeno grasps both of his hands again, trying to calm them both down. Nothing can stop the ripples of anguish tearing through Renjun. Jeno might as well rip off the bandaid before Renjun spirals beyond salvaging.

“Earth is a wreck right now, Renjun.” Jeno swallows back some words, scrambling for a way to soften the blow. There’s still a flicker of hesitance in his posture, like he’s guarding something close to his heart. “The details are kept very hush-hush, but apparently there...there was a final transmission made, insinuating sabotage by the Korean astronauts.”

_“What?!”_

Renjun wrenches his hands out of Jeno’s grip, tearing at chunks of his hair in horror. That can’t be, it just _can’t_ be. It has to be obvious to everyone on the ground that it was an accident, right? He has no idea exactly when the ship lost contact with Earth, but it can’t-- they _can’t_ \--

Jeno’s breath hitches with a matching sob as he catches Renjun’s hands again, pleading for him to calm down and listen. Renjun latches on to Jeno’s soothing voice, fingers still trembling.

“No one really knows what happened, okay? The transmission was never released to the public. It was already a very tense and fragile mission, as you know. China claimed that Korea sabotaged it as a deliberate blow to the Chinese space program, and Korea argued that China was making it all up as a reason to go to war. One search mission was deployed, but it was short lived due to the conflict and turned up empty, so based on what they knew about the explosion, they--” Jeno trips over his words, grip tightening, “They assumed no one could have made it out alive.”

Renjun’s head spins, lungs constricting as he struggles to clear his head. “That’s impossible!” He rips one hand away, pounding it on his chest for emphasis as emotion thickens his frantic words, “I was _there_! It was an accident, how could they think...Oh my God, how could they think we would _ever_ …”

A beat passes, and then Renjun is gathered up into Jeno’s strong arms. Blinded by heartbreak and sorrow, Renjun fumbles for Jeno’s hand, guiding it to the top of his head. Jeno gets the message, and starts running his fingers through Renjun’s hair in slow, calming motions.

“Do they hate me?” Renjun whimpers against Jeno’s chest. Jeno’s arms tense around him.

“No, no. They don’t. No one believes anyone right now, which is why...well to be honest, war is brewing.” Jeno gulps, “I don’t know what has happened since I left my ship behind, but ever since LYRA-1 blew up, tensions have been building. There were rumors of upticks in weapons productions in China, which Korea has matched, and now other countries are starting to pay attention. So far, there have just been small conflicts here and there, easy enough to brush off as unfortunate coincidence. No one has fired the first obvious shot yet, but...that’s where we’re heading.”

Renjun can’t even form words for how utterly destroyed he feels. He already knew that he would never make it home, but learning that there might not even be a home to return to, that what he craves so deeply may have been reduced to gunshots and ash and rubble, is too crushing to bear.

Memories of shaky hands and cotton balls and scattered thoughts prod at the edges of Renjun’s consciousness, but he forces them down.

“They’re wrong!” Renjun cries, pulling back so Jeno can understand the full force of his words, “I _know_ they’re wrong!”

Deep down, he knows he still holds onto fantasies of rescue. They’re aged and dusty and worn from the rushing waters of a depression born from passing time, but they stick fast no matter how hard Renjun tries to set them free.

The fallout from the failure of mission FUSE had never occurred to him. He always assumed that he was the only moving piece of this puzzle— that Earth would always be a constant, and the trajectory of Renjun’s life solely depended on if he would be able to touch the soil ever again.

Distantly, he wonders if he had been set up to die since the day he got that damned acceptance letter.

“I trust you, I trust you,” Jeno whispers into his ear, still working his fingers through Renjun’s hair. “Shh, I trust you.”

Chest heaving, a chilling realization dawns on Renjun.

“Jeno!” His fingers scramble at the other boy’s chest, “Jeno, I-- We need to make it back. We _have_ to. I’m the only one who can vouch for what really happened. They have to listen to me, I _need_ to clear this up before the whole world goes up in flames!”

Jeno cups Renjun’s face, thumb trailing along his cheek. Jeno’s jaw is set hard, eyebrows pulled together with intensity. There’s still that certainty in his gaze; though it’s sharpened with grief and devastation, it shines bright through the haze of Renjun’s panic.

“I told you I’d bring you home, didn’t I?”

And with those words, Renjun feels something within him ignite.

He doesn’t fully believe that they’ll survive-- not yet. No one can recover from months of learned helplessness that easily. But he wants to _try._ He’s willing to take Jeno up on his absurd offer, tempted to indulge in the ridiculous fairytale that they’ll return home one day.

There’s still fear pounding at the chambers of his heart, hesitant to let him hope again in case it shatters around him, sharp shards slicing him beyond recognition. And yet, he knows he has to try.

For the first time since Renjun’s ship exploded, he has a purpose, a goal beyond _just one more day, just stay in motion_.

They stay wrapped around each other for a long time, even after they both calm down. Renjun is still grappling with the shift in his reality, working to accept his new outlook on life, but it’s much easier with Jeno filling the space with random stories and song lyrics.

Jeno prepares a healthy dinner for both of them. When they fall asleep that night, neither of them mind the way Jeno’s arm is slung over Renjun’s waist, nose tucked into the nape of Renjun’s neck.

It’s a small space, after all. It’s only natural.

* * *

“Okay, okay, how about this one. I have cities, but no-- oh, what was it? I have cities but no houses, mountains but no trees, and rivers but no fish. What am I?”

Jeno has put in considerable effort to position himself to hang upside down from the sleeping pod ledge. He’s spouting off all the riddles he can remember in order to keep both of them busy. Renjun suspects it’s mostly for Renjun’s sake, seeing as his little book of Sudoku puzzles is already almost filled up, but he’ll never turn down a good puzzle.

It’s a sweet gesture.

Renjun looks up from where he’s tracing patterns into the steel flooring, fingernails dragging through the dust. He only has to think for a few minutes before guessing, “A map?”

“Damn! You’re too good at these.” Jeno sulks, crossing his arms. If it wasn’t for the minimized gravity, he would have fallen on his head by now. He seems to enjoy inching himself further and further off the ledge, just to see how far he can push it.

Renjun rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to hide the fond smile brightening his face. He’s definitely adjusted to human contact again, or at least Jeno contact, and it’s hard to imagine his life before the boy landed at his doorstep. Airlock. Whatever.

“Try this one, then. What disappears as soon as you say its name?”

“Easy, silence.” Renjun tosses a pencil in Jeno’s direction, watching it drift lazily through the air. “Something I haven’t known since you got here.”

Jeno just grins and wriggles another few inches off the bed. He stretches out an arm and grabs the rogue writing utensil, spinning it between his fingers. “Yeah, yeah. Do you have any paper on this thing? I bet I can make a crossword puzzle that will stump you for real.”

“Oh, really? I’d like to see you try.”

* * *

Jeno falls.

It happens roughly two weeks after Jeno’s crash landing on Renjun’s shuttle, and Renjun is not nearly as prepared to catch him as he thought he would be.

Jeno and Renjun had spent the morning bickering over bands and artists. Apparently Renjun’s favorite bands had released new music since he had been stranded. The knowledge incites another potent wave of bitterness at his dreary situation, but Jeno chases off the storm clouds by having the absolute worst opinions on the older albums that they both listened to.

Renjun suspects that Jeno isn’t half as invested as he is in the squabble over what Red Velvet album will age best and is just fueling the fire, but he appreciates that Jeno is humoring him.

Eventually, Renjun tires of the conversation. He runs his fingers through his hair, shuddering when he feels the grime clinging to him. It’s difficult to get fully clean in space, but they do try their best. He warns Jeno that he's going to go take a shower, and pushes off towards the crew quarters.

The shower capsule lays past the sleeping pod, carved into the wall just beyond the cabin. They mostly have to use liquid soap, water, and rinseless shampoos, all of which are meticulously recycled by the ship’s systems. Once inside, a cylindrical tube built into the floor can be pulled up and hooked to the ceiling for privacy and to contain the water.

Sponge baths aren’t the most pleasant experience, being much more difficult than normal showers, but it’s their only option.

Renjun shucks off his shirt. He hesitates beside the sleeping pod for a moment, fingers prodding at his ribs. There are few mirrors on the ship, so Renjun has barely thought about his appearance beyond the distorted reflections of himself he catches in the control board’s dark screens.

One hand trails up to his collarbones, fiddling with the thin gold chain he never takes off. It’s a memento that he can’t bear to part with for a second, though dwelling on it hurts deeply. There’s a tiny, delicate sun charm hung at the center of the chain, laying flat against his chest. It’s pretty.

He frowns, rubbing the pendant between two fingertips. His collarbones feel far bonier than he remembers, and his skin pulls tight over gaunt cheekbones. His waist dips in, almost alarmingly narrow.

When did he start wasting away?

“Hey Renjun, do you know if-- oh shit, sorry!”

Renjun whirls around at the intrusion, heart thrumming in his chest. Jeno looks equally as spooked, lingering by the entrance to the crew cabin with embarrassment flushing on his cheeks.

“S-Sorry, I was just getting in,” Renjun’s arms wrap around himself in shame, not wanting Jeno to see the horrible state his body has been in for God knows how long. He tenses, ready to break for the shower, but he’s rooted in place when the stunned expression on Jeno’s face shifts to one of immeasurable pain.

Jeno stumbles towards him on jelly legs, eyes locked on to Renjun’s chest. Renjun instinctively shies away from the attention, but the other boy is standing in front of him before he can process it.

Gingerly, Jeno’s shaking fingertips rest on the charm of Renjun’s necklace.

“Doyoung,” he croaks, eyes welling up with tears, “You knew him, didn’t you?”

Renjun was wrong.

He wasn’t ready for Jeno to crumble into his arms, optimistic mask finally cracking. He never could have prepared for the utter agony in the sobs wracking Jeno’s chest.

Renjun had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but now that it had fallen, Renjun realizes that he would have built a shield out of his own skin and bone just to keep Jeno from plummeting to rock bottom.

Misery loves company, but not like this. _Never_ like this.

Renjun’s shocked silence hangs heavy in the room. He can’t think of anything beyond the weeping boy clutching onto him, feeling his heartstrings plucked away one by one.

“He...He was my crewmate,” Renjun ventures, voice wobbling in the charged air. Jeno’s breath stutters, an ugly cry wrenching from his throat.

“He was my _brother._ ”

Renjun swallows his gasp, overcome with a grief and sorrow that he knows can’t even hold a candle to what Jeno must be feeling. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, though, everything makes sense. Jeno’s smiling eyes were always so comforting, so warm and reassuring in the way only familiarity can offer.

All this time, and Renjun had no idea.

Jeno pulls away and hunts around his neck for something. From underneath his shirt, just like Renjun, he yanks out a delicate silver chain.

Renjun stares with horror at the beautiful crescent moon sitting on the chain, the perfect other half to Renjun’s-- _Doyoung’s_ sun.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” Jeno whimpers, “When you said you were from LYRA-1, I didn’t want to believe you. I’ve been searching for answers for so-- so _long_ , Renjun, but when I came face to face with someone who could tell me what happened, I cowered on the brink of the truth. What kind of a brother am I?!”

Renjun hushes him, gently guiding him to the sleeping pod. Jeno’s knuckles are turning white from where he’s gripping Renjun’s arm, but Renjun doesn’t complain as he seats them on the thin ledge.

“I was so afraid. I made the biggest gamble of my life, and then I realized I wasn’t even ready to learn the truth because I knew it would be something I wouldn’t want to hear,” Jeno’s eyes flicker up to connect to Renjun’s pained gaze, chest heaving shallowly.

“My house was raided by the government soon after the disaster. I didn’t believe that my brother was dead in the first place, and they wouldn’t fucking tell us _anything_ about what happened because of how high profile it was. But then they were searching for signs of malicious intent and corruption and throwing around all these words like _spy_ and _traitor_ and I just, I just knew it couldn’t be true!”

_Traitor._ The word cuts through Renjun like butter. No matter what the government claims about their innocence in press conferences, the public still must have branded his entire crew as treacherous, suspicious, _dangerous._

He feels sick.

“My family tried to accept it, tried to reason with me that no one could have survived an explosion of that magnitude, that it didn’t matter if there was no evidence of what exactly happened because it had all been lost to space. What could we do but shut up and mourn, anyways? The government didn’t find anything to hold against my brother, but his name was dragged through the mud again and again throughout the investigation. I couldn’t just sit back and watch. I couldn’t betray Doyoung like that!” His voice edges on near-hysterical, and Renjun’s heart breaks.

“And yet, I felt like a horrible brother because there was always that fear in the back of my mind that maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought. Maybe-- maybe he _was_ capable of treason, and I was blind to it all along. A pitiful fool who placed blind trust in someone who betrayed him, or a disgrace who deserted his brother when he needed an ally the most. I doubted everything. I barely knew who _I_ was anymore.” Jeno spits. His breathing quickens again, and Renjun rubs his thumb against the hand clutching his arm in an attempt to soothe him.

“I always looked up to him, like any younger sibling does, so I was already on the track to becoming a flight engineer when it all happened. I wanted to explore space, just like him. I poured myself into my studies, even as flimsy political treaties and faulty truces were crumbling around us. With war constantly on the horizon and so much uncertainty shrouding the incident, space centers were shut down one by one. No one was interested in sending _more_ people to their deaths for minor tasks in space, especially not when all the attention was being directed to the crisis on our own planet.”

Jeno shakes his head slowly, a wry smile worming its way to his lips. Renjun feels his heart sink at the sight. Jeno feels so far away, so desperately lost to his grief, and Renjun doesn’t know how to bring him home.

“I worked so hard to get on to the first mission I could find. It was extremely difficult to convince the space centers that it was a necessary risk, but we finally got through to them.” Jeno’s eyes are puffy and red, and he swallows hard as Renjun pulls him closer.

“I…I love what I do, Renjun, I always have. But I didn’t come here to repair telescopes. Even when I wanted to ignore it because of how afraid I was to be proven wrong, every single time I looked out the window I hoped to see my brother there, alive and well and waiting to be found. That’s why, when I caught a glimpse of an unmarked ship with a torn wing, drifting aimlessly, I couldn’t just let it go by, even at the cost of abandoning my own crew. I had to take that chance. I had to go after it, to see if there was any hope of finding my brother.”

“And you found me instead,” Renjun whispers, realization slamming into him like a heavy weight to his gut. Tears spring to his own eyes as Jeno’s story gradually processes. Jeno had fought tooth and nail to follow his hope of reuniting with his brother, and Renjun only has tales of sorrow to offer him for a reward.

“I’m sorry, Jeno. I’m so sorry I’m not the person you wanted to find.”

Jeno’s eyes are screwed shut, tears still leaking down his cheeks. Head drooping, he rests his forehead on Renjun’s shoulder, still shaking. It’s Renjun’s turn to hold him with strong arms as he crumbles under the weight of all the grief he denied for so many months.

“I didn’t get to see him much once he entered flight school. He always took such good care of me when we were younger, protecting me from bullies at school and taking me out for ice cream when I did well on an exam. I loved him-- I still do. But then he entered all these high security programs, and he wasn’t allowed to come home as often, and in the whirlwind before mission FUSE I barely got to spend any time with him at all.”

Jeno’s words are muffled in Renjun’s shoulder, but he can hear them all too clearly, each syllable fraught with sharp anguish. “At least I got to say goodbye. Of course, I didn’t-- I didn’t know _how_ important that would be, because I assumed we could reconnect once he...once he came home, but I’m grateful I got to see him off. I hope he knew how much he means to me. I-I really hope so, and that he wouldn’t be mad at me for being such a coward in the end. I still wonder if he was proud of me.”

Jeno’s voice dissolves into soft sobs again, soaking into Renjun’s skin. Renjun’s heart cracks in his chest at the burdens Jeno has been carrying for so long.

It all fits together. Jeno’s reaction to their initial introduction was strange, even considering the controversial legacy that LYRA-1 had wrecked on Earth, and there was always a swift avoidance of anything regarding Renjun’s crew and original ship. Renjun thought he had been the one steering the conversation clear of any difficult memories, but obviously Jeno had been suppressing far more than he was letting on.

“He loved you, Jeno.” Renjun blinks back his own tears, still rubbing soothing circles into any patch of skin he could find. “He really did. He talked all the time about his bright, almost _too_ smart brother back on Earth, bragging about your accomplishments to anyone who would listen.”

“Really?”

Jeno sits back a bit, eyes wide and glistening with more unshed tears. Renjun is hanging by a thread, choking on his grief and survivor’s guilt.

It was true that Doyoung always talked about his family and his life back on Earth. It was comforting to listen to at night when Renjun was homesick and Doyoung would coax him to sleep with little stories, but now the words sit heavy in the bottom of his stomach.

It’s all Renjun’s fault that Jeno lost his brother.

“Of course.”

Jeno scoots back until he hits the wall of the pod, wrapping his knees around his chest in a self-soothing position Renjun is all too familiar with. They stew in the solemn silence for a few minutes as Jeno collects his thoughts. He scrubs the tears off his cheeks with one big motion.

“Renjun, what was my brother like as an astronaut?”

Renjun smiles tightly. Regret burns over the skin of his left arm when he tries to call on those memories, but he endures the pain. He owes it to Jeno, to offer him any comfort he can provide.

“Doyoung...He took such good care of us. He was organized and checked in on everyone regularly. He was like the glue. I felt safe whenever he was around. There was a lot that we weren’t trained for on that mission, so he made it his job to keep everything running smoothly, at least emotionally. He was incredible, Jeno, he really was. I--” Renjun’s voice cracks as intense emotion surges in his throat, “I _know_ he would never put anyone’s life at risk. I trusted Doyoung with my-- my life, for a reason. He was a good man, Jeno, not a traitor. _Never._ I promise you that.”

Jeno sniffles, nodding his head. Renjun has never seen him look so young, so vulnerable. Renjun can’t fathom what it must feel like, a year long search concluding with the worst outcome possible, the very words he hunted to disprove. He doesn’t want to hear it and Renjun doesn’t want to say it, but they both know it to be true in the pits of their stomachs.

_Doyoung is dead._

“He bought us these matching necklaces before he left for school for the first time,” Jeno fiddles with the crescent moon charm, the necklace still exposed. Renjun’s fingers instinctively find his own chain.

“It was a silly little trip to the mall, and I was upset because I hadn’t gotten to hang out with him much since he was so busy packing. He knew I would miss him, so he stopped in and got us matching charms to remember each other by. They were cheap, but he got them engraved with our initials so they would be more meaningful. I was young so I didn’t care much for flimsy fake metal necklaces at the time, but once he disappeared I never took it off. I didn’t even know he took his half with him on the mission.”

Renjun bites his lip. He reaches to the nape of his neck, fumbling with the clasp. “You should have this, Jeno, I’m sorry. He gave it to me for safekeeping right before the explosion, and I just...it hurt to be reminded of how much was lost, but it was also a comfort, a souvenir from a time where I wasn’t alone, from someone who always supported me. But it’s a piece of him, a piece that you should keep.”

Jeno is already shaking his head before Renjun can finish talking. With shiny eyes, he reaches over and pulls Renjun’s hand away from his neck.

“Keep it, please,” he says, “If the Doyoung you knew was anything like the Doyoung I grew up with, he would have wanted you to keep it. He was always selfless like that.”

“Yeah,” Renjun feels fresh tears pulsing at his eyes, guilt bubbling low in his gut, “He really was. Jeno, he-- he saved my _life_. I tried to get him out too, but I couldn’t.” Renjun’s words are thick with desperation as his gaze bores into Jeno, “Please believe me, I really tried to save him! He pulled away, and I just...I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry.”

A watery sigh springs from Jeno’s lips as he takes Renjun’s hands. “It’s not your fault, Renjun. Please don’t think like that. Honestly, Doyoung probably knew you’d have a better chance at survival with only one person on the escape shuttle. These pods aren’t built to last forever. He saw something in you that he knew needed to be preserved more than his own life. I trust his judgement, Renjun. I always have.”

Renjun tips his forehead to rest against Jeno’s own. They breath together for a few minutes, both reliving the loss of someone dear to them.

This time, Renjun isn’t grieving alone. This time, Jeno isn’t avoiding the bitter reality of life.

Nestled in each other’s arms, they both allow themselves to crack, knowing that once they’re ready to face the world again, there is another person to patch them up with glue in all the places they can’t reach alone.

“Your brother was the best man anyone could ever ask for, Jeno. I’m going to make sure his name is cleared.”


	2. CRACKLE

_“Little Huang!”_

_“Ugh, when will that nickname die?” Renjun bristles as Yukhei enthusiastically ruffles his hair. He pats down the snarls, sending an exasperated glare the boy’s way. It’s fond, though, if you look hard enough._

_“Yukhei for the love of God, where’s your shirt?” Johnny snickers from where he’s tinkering with some parts._

_They’re due to make some repairs on a passing satellite in a few hours. They never seem to have an hour to spare between spacewalks and missions, but Renjun doesn’t mind. It feels like nonsense busy work, sure, but it feels nice to keep occupied, and it doesn’t retract from small moments like these where he gets to bond with his team._

_It’s such a shame that the mission was so rushed. Renjun would have loved to have completed the usual crew relationship modules, but they were barely prepared for flight as it was._

_“I don’t know! I keep losing them…” Yukhei pouts._

_“We’re literally in a closed environment, Xuxi, they’ve gotta be somewhere,” Kun pipes up from the other side of the cabin. Beside him, Taeyong is talking to Kun in soft tones about their trajectory to intercept the satellite and where they’re headed afterwards. Kun nods along, gesturing to one of the screens every so often._

_Beyond the cabin doorway, Renjun spots Doyoung and Ten bickering over a foil package of freeze dried apricots. There are literally four more bags in front of them in the pantry, so Renjun guesses Ten just wants to rile Doyoung up. He does that a lot._

_Doyoung catches Renjun’s eye and mouths ‘Help me’. Renjun just muffles his laugh behind his hand. Ten, sensing an opportunity to bother someone else, abandons Doyoung to poke his head into the cabin. Renjun can see Doyoung’s soul slowly crawl back into him._

_“Well I’d offer one of my spare shirts to you, Yukhei, but I’m pretty sure you’d bust right out of the seams.” Renjun quips, poking at Yukhei’s muscled arm. “Yeah, there’s no point. Eugh. Better luck next time.”_

_Ten snorts, and Kun loops an affectionate arm around his neck. “You’re a good kid, Renjun. Far nicer than the rest of us.”_

_“I resent that, Ten! I don’t know about all you bastards, but_ I _always thanked the bus driver.”_

_Renjun smiles back at his crewmates as they all return to their duties. Distantly, he wonders why there are tears pooling in his eyes._

* * *

Jeno finds Renjun in his favorite spot, curled up by the flight deck window.

A quiet few days had passed on the shuttle, minutes slipping into hours as both boys struggled through reopened wounds. The pain eases as they let each other in more, but healing is far from a simple task.

Renjun shares anecdotes from his original crew, allowing Jeno to meet a version of his brother he never got the chance to know. The memories were sore and uncomfortable to prod at in the beginning, but the more Renjun speaks, the less sharp they feel on his tongue. It’s cathartic for both of them.

It’s still frightening to be known. Renjun doesn’t think the discomfort from feeling exposed will ever get easier, exactly, but he finds he doesn’t mind it if Jeno is the one entrusted with his heart.

Hm. Renjun files that strange idea away for later.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Jeno perches on the arm of the chair, balancing easily in the decreased gravity. Renjun is still lost amongst the stars outside their window. One hand rests on the glass, fingertips splayed out across the surface so he doesn’t leave an entire handprint staining the window. The view is the same as it always is-- far off shimmers of light, a planet just out of reach.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Jeno hums his agreement. Renjun peels his attention away from the constellations to glance at Jeno, whose gaze quickly flickers back to the window.

“Aren’t you tired of this by now?” Jeno gestures vaguely beyond the window, “It’s the same thing all the time. It was exciting the first day I was in space, but that was it. I just...don’t understand where you go when you come here.”

His tone isn’t condescending, but more curious. Renjun turns to study him for a moment, the way his eyebrows crinkle up and his eyes lack the particular spark of life Renjun always feels when he sees the stars.

Jeno seems to approach the world from a very technical manner, all mechanical methods of assessing a problem, assigning it a solution, and moving on. He talks in concrete facts and proven theories, while Renjun lets his mind wander. Renjun catches all the details-- not to plug into a machine later and spit out an answer, but rather to relish in his senses and bask in the beauty of what it means to be alive.

How fitting, for Jeno to stay rooted to Earth while Renjun floated above the clouds for so many months.

Renjun shifts over, cramming himself onto one side of the seat. He pats the space next to him. Jeno hesitates for a beat before hopping off the arm and squeezing in close to Renjun.

“See over there?” Renjun’s finger circles around a dot in the distance, about the size of a dollar coin. Earth is still breathtaking, even when it’s so far away that Renjun wakes up some mornings terrified it will be gone the next time he looks. Even from this distance, he can see the stunning emerald greens and deep blues, covered with swathes of white.

“Look at how the clouds swirl across the planet. Sometimes I feel like I can see them move if I pay attention long enough.” Renjun pauses and looks to Jeno, whose eyes are glued on him.

“When you were on Earth, did you think about how the clouds move? Did you treasure a rainstorm, or ever stop to listen to the wind? I know I didn’t, back then. I didn’t _ever_ stop and listen, and I regret that now. Looking at the universe from this point of view makes me realize how much I took for granted, especially now that those experiences are so far away. I can barely remember what it feels like to be down there, so this view...well, it’s the closest I’ve been to home in a long time.”

Jeno squints through the window like he’s trying to see the world through Renjun’s eyes.

“There are definitely parts of the planet I’ve only ever seen from this vantage point. It makes me wonder what it’s like to actually go to those places, reminds me of how vast and diverse Earth is. To answer your question, though,” Jeno tilts his head, gaze locking onto Renjun again, “I wasn’t good at appreciating what I had, but I didn’t lose it that long ago. You can live in my memories with me, if you’ve lost sight of your own.”

“Really now,” Renjun says, but it’s softer than usual with the weight of Jeno’s gaze boring into him. Renjun doesn’t know what to do with the fluttering in his chest, or why Jeno’s attention feels like a million spotlights shone straight into his eyes.

Is this what being around other people always felt like? Renjun can’t quite remember.

“Of course. For rainstorms, I remember a time when I was ten and doing homework on my front porch. I got frustrated and moved inside because I wanted to give up. Doyoung,” Jeno trails off, searching for the strength to continue. It comes easier than it did the first time they broached the topic, and pride flickers in Renjun’s chest, “Doyoung was up in his room, and I’m guessing our mother told him I was struggling. He met me by the door, but instead of immediately steering me to the kitchen table and sitting me down for another two hours of work, he took my papers, spun me around, and pushed me back outside. I was so confused!”

Renjun laughs at the mental image of little Jeno, slowly getting soaked by the rain in his school clothes, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes.

“Doyoung took my hand, kicked off his shoes, and dragged us into the middle of the storm. We were sopping wet, splashing around in the puddles and playing in the lightning. I knew we would go inside eventually, I was aware that I would have to go back to formulas I didn’t understand, but I felt like I could conquer the world in that moment. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air and the water was fresh against my skin. The clouds were dark, but it was a gloominess that felt soothing.”

Jeno offers a hand to Renjun. He doesn’t hesitate to accept it, even when the butterflies in his chest nearly makes his heart skip a beat.

“Come on then, join us.”

Suddenly, another figure pops up beside little Jeno and little Doyoung to relish in the rain. As Jeno continues to describe the scene, sharing all the sensations and emotions he experienced in that moment, Renjun travels to that bubble of time with him as if he was beside him all along, as if he was meant to be there from the beginning.

Little Jeno and little Doyoung don’t seem to mind the newcomer intruding on their carefree moment. Rather, they grab his hands in both of theirs and run through the puddles together.

If he closes his eyes and concentrates enough on Jeno’s voice, Renjun can almost feel the stormy wind tousling his hair.

Jeno falls silent after a while, softly spiriting them away from the rose colored memory. Renjun’s eyes flutter open. There’s a certain gentleness to Jeno as he looks at him that Renjun doesn’t know how to deal with.

“Thank you,” he breathes, “for taking me there.”

“My memories are your memories. You’re free to hijack whatever you like.” Jeno sounds all too serious in his promises, squeezing their linked hands, “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Just say the word.”

Renjun didn’t realize that they hadn’t let go.

After they reminisce some more, trading Renjun’s observations of the Earth from space for Jeno’s firsthand experiences of what it’s like to be there, they lapse into the stillness again. Renjun’s free hand returns to the window, falling into the natural groove of zigzagging across the stars.

The repetition soothes him as it always does, but he finds just as much comfort in the hand that’s still interlaced with Jeno’s fingers.

Jeno’s hand is much larger than his, strong and warm as it encloses over him. It’s nice to hold hands like this, content and peaceful rather than in a desperate attempt to calm each other down.

Lingering touches for no reason other than to touch.

The thought sets off another round of irregular heartbeats, an odd warmth lighting up the tips of his ears and glowing between his ribcage.

How odd.

“What are you doing?”

Renjun’s finger freezes in the middle of tracing the outline of a crown. He’s never shared this habit of creating characters to keep himself company.

It’s important to him, a fragment of his insecurities, personality, and values hidden within each story he crafts. He’s a little afraid Jeno will judge him for it, but he’s already bared so much of his soul and only gotten compassion and kindness in return, so he has no reason to think that this time will be any different.

If he can’t trust Jeno, then who can he trust?

“Ah, well. Another hobby I picked up when I got stranded was inventing my own constellations,” Renjun can feel the faint blush on his cheeks as he admits to it, “I only have so many dots to work with out there, so sometimes I have to recycle old stories and rework them into something new, but it always brought me comfort when I felt alone. The more I created, the easier it was to instantly see friends and role models and inspiration whenever I looked out at the stars.”

Renjun risks a glance at Jeno. The other boy’s eyes are blown wide with surprise, but he doesn’t look weirded out at all. Rather, he looks interested, maybe even _excited._

“Renjun, that’s so cool!” He straightens up in the chair, shoulders knocking against Renjun’s due to the cramped space, “It’s okay if they’re personal, but will you share some with me if you’re comfortable? I want to hear your stories. I want to see what you see out there.”

Renjun tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ears bashfully. He searches for a few minutes for a good story to start with. His eyes pass over three stars in a slanted line, and he bites his lips.

He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want to share the warrior with Jeno. He can barely see the figure’s silhouette in the sky anymore, as if it peeled itself off the starry backdrop and barreled directly into his life. Beside him, Jeno presses a little closer.

Oh god, Renjun is blushing. This is bad.

Quickly, he chooses the first familiar configuration he lands on. It happens to be a rabbit. Renjun traces the outline of the shape before launching into the story, but Jeno interrupts him after a few words.

“I can’t see it...” he frowns, looking genuinely distressed even after Renjun points out the stars one by one. Biting back a nervous laugh, Renjun grabs Jeno’s wrist with his free hand and brings it up to the window. Gently, he guides Jeno’s finger to where the bunny should be.

“Do you see it now? The ears are here, the body is there, and the tail is right beside it. It looks like it’s standing on its hind legs and reaching for something.”

“Oh, there it is!” Jeno’s smile is bright and wide as he brings the bunny to life in his mind. Renjun knows it’s just a silly pastime, but he’s happy that Jeno is wholeheartedly indulging him in it.

Renjun takes him through the short story he made up around the animal. It was about a small bunny who lived its life on the run, forced to steal food from any garden he came across. Eventually, he discovered some abandoned baby bunnies in a garden he was going to steal from, and turned them all in to the farmer for the sake of the babies. They lived happily ever after, cared for by the farmer and hopping through the garden the same way Renjun’s bunny hops through the sky.

“Aren’t the stories behind constellations supposed to have morals, or something?” Jeno’s words are light and clearly affectionate.

“You’re talking about Aesop’s Fables, genius.” Renjun rolls his eyes fondly. “I think the day I made this, I was thinking about how I never got to have a pet, and I wondered what it was like to care for something like that. I looked outside and saw a bunny in the stars, so I found comfort in him. There’s no deeper meaning or lesson to learn. I just wanted something to keep me company.”

“You find life in every nook and cranny, Renjun,” Jeno’s eyes curve up with admiration, “I really love that. I could never think the way you do.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. You still have most of your marbles, unlike me.” Renjun laughs at himself, but Jeno doesn’t join in. Renjun is acutely aware of how both of their hands are now linked as Jeno maneuvers them to face each other. Their faces are pushed just a little too close together by the narrow armrests.

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that, okay? Please. You aren’t crazy. I really hate that you see yourself that way. You deserve so much more credit than you give yourself.”

Jeno’s eyes are wide and emphatic, all too genuine. Renjun doesn’t know what to do with the overwhelming seriousness in Jeno’s face as he begs him to be kinder to himself. He settles with a small nod, allowing his head to fall to Jeno’s shoulder.

“Okay, now tell me another one!”

* * *

Renjun’s chest is tight.

He wakes up alone for the first time in days. The sleeping bag feels oddly large when he’s the only occupant, and the space next to him is cold. Jeno is probably scraping together breakfast for them or something.

Renjun pushes himself up, but the air doesn’t move quite right around him, as if he’s seeing the world in slow motion. Both hands rub at his eyes when he tries to yawn, but he can’t pull in enough breath to follow it through.

What?

Renjun shakes his head to rid himself of the grogginess, but it clings to his consciousness and leeches away any trace of clarity that he reaches for. With deja vu scorching across the flesh of his arm, he throws off the covers and fumbles for the divider button.

He would have crashed onto the floor if not for the buoyancy of the pod’s decreased gravity. The more he struggles to breathe, the shallower his chest heaves. He’s going to hyperventilate at this point.

Where is Jeno? What happened?

“Jeno?” he wheezes, spots drifting into his vision. He blindly clings to the wall, propelling himself toward the flight deck. Jeno isn’t there, either, and Renjun can feel himself succumbing to the panic crashing over him like a tsunami.

“Jeno!”

His thoughts race with worst case scenarios, the circuit boards around him fading into one big smudge of gray.

Did the pod finally give up on them?

Did Jeno leave him, like he was always afraid he would?

Renjun’s hands land around his throat, desperately pressing into the flesh to get air flowing to his lungs. He can’t. He _can’t_. There’s nothing but the void surrounding him, all the oxygen sucked dry. His vision blurs violently as he pitches to the side.

He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die.

He can already smell the thick smoke curling around his neck like a noose.

_Dizzy._

Renjun’s hyperventilating, forehead pressed to the floor as he cries. His head pounds and swirls, eyes rolling back as the darkness overwhelms him. The ringing in his ears drowns everything out.

Dizzy, he’s dizzy.

_Smoke._

“Renjun?”

_Shaky hands, blue fingertips._

“Renjun? Renjun!”

_Doyoung yanks him up. They’re stumbling, running, weightless, screaming, but Doyoung doesn’t let go. Somehow, they make it to the entrance of the flight deck, choking and spluttering. Renjun’s hand scrabbles at his throat._

_He wonders where all the air went._

A body wraps around Renjun, warm hands frantically checking over his pitiful, shaking frame. The hands smooth matted hair away from his face, thumbs pressing into his cheeks as they wipe away his smokey gray tears.

_Through the black dots shifting around his vision, Renjun can barely make out the shape of a body slumped by the transmissions. Yukhei?_

_“What’s happening?!” Renjun stumbles toward him, arms outstretched in panic, but he doesn’t make it there._

_They know it’s too late._

“It’s okay, Renjun, you’re okay. I’m here. You’re here, you’re with me. Please breathe.”

_Doyoung’s strong arms wrap around Renjun’s waist, pulling him away. He’s too dizzy to protest through his sobs as they tear through the shuttle._

_They’re heading towards the thick of the flames, near the fuel tanks. He can’t follow Doyoung’s train of thought, blindly clutching the older man’s arm as he wails with the last of his breath._

_Fire extends all around them, flames licking across the ship. Renjun chokes on the acrid smoke, and Doyoung hugs him closer. A beam of bright light cuts through Renjun’s blurry vision._

_They’ve made it to one of the escape pods. The hatch hangs open, waiting for someone._

One of Renjun’s hands is laid flat against someone’s chest, strong fingers wrapped around his wrist. The skin beneath him thrums with life, but he’s too far away to feel it.

_Renjun sucks in shallow breaths, but he knows there’s nothing getting to his lungs. He can see the spare oxygen tanks smoldering._

_Renjun clings tighter to Doyoung, head swimming as oblivion comes for him. He can feel the pressure in the cabin plummet, but none of the security alarms blare._

_He can’t remember why they’re here. He can’t remember who he is._

_There’s still life in Doyoung’s eyes, even as Renjun’s head lolls on his neck. He struggles with a keypad on the wall before cradling Renjun closer. Renjun can faintly feel himself being carried, but his consciousness wavers._

Gentle fingers run through Renjun’s hair, hushing him lovingly. Through the blood coursing through his ears, Renjun can almost hear them desperately pleading with him.

_The flames bubble and bloat around them. They’re building. Tears spill down Doyoung’s cheeks as he holds him._

_With shaky hands and blue fingertips, Doyoung wrangles Renjun into the small pod, tearing him out of his arms._

“Please come back, Renjun, _love_. Please, please, breathe for me!”

_“Doyoung!” Renjun howls, lungs squeezed dry. He throws an arm out into the mess of shifting shapes around him, overwhelmed by bright blue flame._

_He lurches forward and catches a hand. Desperately, he tugs at it with his waning strength, but it’s too late._

_Renjun wails as Doyoung slips from his grasp._

_Blue flame, blue fingertips._

_The mid-fuselage collapses. Renjun can feel the explosion ripping its way towards them. Completely blinded and seconds from passing out, Renjun still searches frantically, heart thumping in his throat._

_“Don’t leave me!” he wheezes, tongue thick and words slurred, “Please!”_

_He’s too weak to fight back as the hatch locks shut. Even as his awareness slowly returns with the pod’s functioning circulation system, he’s still powerless to stop Doyoung before he slams his fist on the disengage button._

“I’m not leaving you, Renjun! I promised. I _promised_ , don’t you remember?”

_The escape pod whirrs mechanically around Renjun, safety restraints unlatching as the shuttle detaches from the main ship. He presses himself up against the window, fists crashing against the glass in agony when Doyoung’s blurry form crumples, eyes rolling back._

_The ship is encased in blue. Apart from the medicine bag slung over his shoulder and the thin gold chain in his hand, Renjun’s entire life is swallowed up by the flames._

_Renjun can only sob with newfound breath as he watches his ship be torn to shreds in the violent explosion._

_He’s alone._

“You’re not alone, love. You’re not alone. I know you’re in there. Please, come back to me. You’re okay.”

_He’s alone._

Strong arms rock him back and forth, watery pleas whispered into the crown of his head. Renjun is tucked under someone’s chin, heartbeats gradually falling in sync.

_He’s...alone?_

“I promised you I’d be here for you and I meant it. I’m not going anywhere.”

_He’s not alone anymore._

“Jeno?” Renjun croaks. His throat stings raw.

Instantly, a gasp tears from Jeno’s lips. He cradles the back of Renjun’s head with one hand, separating them just enough to look him in the eyes, and no further. His fingers dig in a little too tight around Renjun’s waist, but Renjun doesn’t complain.

There’s no smoke. The air is clean and oxygen rich and Renjun’s chest moves easily.

“Are you okay? What happened, Renjun? Where did you go? You...You were screaming so loudly, with so much _pain._ Please...” Concern drenches Jeno’s features as he searches Renjun’s face. Renjun struggles not to cower away from the piercing gaze.

Renjun feels another wave of tears, this time forged in embarrassment, well up in his eyes.

Now he’s really done it. He’s gone and scared Jeno off with just how fucked up he is, proving to him up close that he’s a lost cause.

No matter what practical use Renjun could provide with his testimony on Earth, surely Jeno will finally see that his brand of crazy isn’t worth it-- he’s never been worth it.

Jeno grabs Renjun’s chin before he can duck his head, silently pleading for Renjun to communicate with him. Renjun knows he won’t push if Renjun doesn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time he owes him the truth.

He owes Jeno _everything._

Renjun’s hand drifts up to his throat, wincing at the scraped red marks left by fingernails of a crazed man he can barely recognize as himself.

“I woke up and I couldn’t breathe. It was just like that morning on...on LYRA-1. I woke up with a headache and everything was cloudy and I couldn’t move right, like I was in a horrible nightmare. I thought--” Renjun’s voice cracks, and Jeno holds him closer. “I thought it was happening again. I thought you were gone, and the oxygen tanks were on fire, and _it was going to happen all over again_.”

Jeno makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut. “Oh, Renjun,” he mumbles, fingers tangling in his hair again, “Oh, love, no, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have woken you first, but I thought it would be a quick job.”

He repositions them, still curled protectively around Renjun’s thin frame, “This pod really wasn’t designed for two, and that includes the circulation system. We hadn’t noticed it until now, but the shuttle wasn’t prepared for the extra carbon dioxide produced by a second person, and all the excess had been building up in the air. It got really bad, to the point where it was almost impossible to get sufficient amounts of oxygen in each breath when I woke up this morning.”

Jeno winces, regret flashing over his face. “I should have thought of that when I first got here, but it slipped my mind. I didn’t even realize until today. I had to go into the inner mechanisms of the circulation system and load up some extra canisters of lithium hydroxide to properly clean the air. It…” Jeno chews on his lower lip, “It won’t last us forever.”

For the umpteenth time, Renjun remembers that he’s living on borrowed time. He has been one wrong step away from death since the instant LYRA-1 went up in flames.

Now, he’s dragged Jeno to the edge with him.

“I’m sorry, Jeno.” Renjun rasps, moving to peel himself from his hold, “I’m sorry, I panicked for no reason. I didn’t mean to worry you. I...I should have been able to handle myself better. I’m sorry you had to deal with me like that, but I’ll work on it. It won’t happen again.”

_I won’t do it again. Please, don’t give up on me. Don’t leave._

“What? No, Renjun, don’t say that,” Jeno catches him before he can bolt. He cups Renjun’s cheeks in his hands, thumbs swiping in calming motions across the flushed skin. “You are not a burden, do you hear me? You went through something horrible, something _tragic._ You aren’t expected to get over it in a day. In fact, I’d be more concerned if you were totally unbothered. It makes sense that this would bring on a flashback, there’s no shame in that. Please, let me in. I want to be there for you.”

Lee Jeno is too good to be true.

Renjun is well aware of this, and it terrifies him. He doesn’t understand how a boy like Jeno landed in his life, or why he would bother to fake the affection in his touches. Renjun is soaked through with despondency, dissolving into the open air like sugar in water. He has nothing to offer, nothing to give.

There’s no reason for Jeno to stick around beyond the walls of the shuttle. Even if they do find rescue someday, Renjun will just be left alone again, a traitor to the public eye roaming the hollow streets.

Whatever this is, it won’t last. It can’t, no matter how many pretty promises Jeno whispers in his ear.

Renjun is afraid to fall, but from a different ledge this time.

“Y-You don’t mean that. I’m fucking unstable, Jeno! You don’t want all _this_ weighing you down!” Renjun gestures angrily to himself, unable to keep the disgust from his expression. He can feel the shock ripple through Jeno’s body.

“Don’t speak for me!” Jeno’s hands move to Renjun’s shoulders, gripping him firmly, “Don’t-- don’t assume what I feel. Please. I know it might be hard to believe me, but please listen to me. Just humor me, okay?”

Renjun deflates. He nods Jeno on.

“I told you I wasn’t the best with words and that’s still true, but I’ll try my best. No matter what you think, I’m not going anywhere-- at least, not without you. I care about you, Renjun. Let my actions speak for me, okay?”

Renjun allows Jeno to carry him into the crew cabin and gently tuck him into bed. He’s so disoriented that he can’t judge what hour of the day it should be, but it doesn’t matter when the exhaustion from his breakdown hangs heavy on his lids.

“I don’t want to die here, Jeno.”

“You won’t.”

Renjun doesn’t have to ask Jeno not to leave. He climbs in next to him, pressing the button to block out the rest of the distant world. Renjun’s head easily finds the crook of Jeno’s neck, and he pulls the covers over them.

Before sleep takes him, he can’t help but mumble his fears into the still air. Jeno’s fingers trail in looping patterns across the scorched flesh of his arm, but the touch doesn’t burn. It’s electric.

“I don’t understand why you stay.”

The words are muffled into their sleeping bag. Renjun knows that realistically, Jeno literally can’t leave. Neither of them can. They’re both stranded on the same tiny ship for the foreseeable future, but that doesn’t mean that they need to be doing all _this._

All these stolen glances and lingering touches, all these moments where they peel back their armor, all these affectionate words and promises of forever. They aren’t things Renjun would expect from any normal crewmate, even one with whom he’s locked into a fragile infinity.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to understand. Just trust that I will, yeah?”

And when Jeno puts it like that, Renjun really can’t say no.

* * *

Renjun tells Jeno the whole story of LYRA-1’s explosion over shitty space preserved scrambled eggs.

Jeno declares the day a special occasion for no reason other than that they’re alive to see it. Renjun supposes it’s not the worst logic, but he’s not sure it warrants them using up their limited packets of powdered eggs. They aren’t even good, honestly.

Renjun catches a brief glimpse of the pantry before Jeno blocks his view. It looks far emptier than he remembered, and his thoughts instantly drift to the pod’s increased consumption of lithium hydroxide.

Nothing can last forever.

But then Jeno’s nose wrinkles as he shoves a hearty lump of limp scrambled egg in his mouth, and Renjun can only think about how much he wants to kiss the crumbs off the corner of his lip no matter how gross the egg tastes.

Wait. What?

Renjun files that thought away for later inspection. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Maybe someday he’ll stop running and actually examine them as they pile up at the back of his brain, but that day isn’t today. In fact, it’s special occasion space egg day.

They’ve got all the time in the world, anyways.

It’s difficult to relive the disaster yet again, but Jeno is there to ground him through it. Renjun knows it isn’t easy for him, either, to hear the gruesome details of his brother’s death, but he hopes it at least provides some closure. Besides, Jeno deserves to have the full story laid out calmly, instead of having to piece it together from Renjun’s hysterical screams.

When Renjun finishes, Jeno looks deeply troubled. There’s a glassy, faraway look in his eyes, eyebrows scrunched towards the middle of his forehead. He’s staring holes into the side of the shuttle, dark hair falling in front of his eyelashes.

Renjun bites his lip, uncertain if he’s set off a fresh round of grief in Jeno. He reaches out to soothe him, but Jeno’s chin jerks up before he can move.

“Renjun. I need you to hear me out, okay?”

“My favorite words,” Renjun says weakly. There’s an apprehension in Jeno’s body language that Renjun doesn’t know how to interpret. Jeno gently takes his hands, steeling himself.

“I don’t think the explosion was an accident.”

“What?” Renjun breathes. His heart plummets to his feet at the solemn look in Jeno’s eyes. “What do you mean? Do you think...you think we…?”

The betrayal pricks needle thin holes in Renjun’s heart, and he’s ready to bleed out. He can’t stomach the idea of Jeno believing the rumors, accusing him of being responsible for the deaths of his crew.

How could he do that to him?

“No, I trust you. I told you that, remember? I stand by those words. But there’s so much that doesn’t add up, Jun,” Jeno frowns at the floor, “Like the solar panels. Those are powered by sunlight, they don’t just _turn off_ like that. The same thing goes for the pressurization and circulation systems, there are so many security locks and obstacles so that those things can’t be dismantled by accident. Alarms should have gone off if the oxygen was low enough for you to suffer hypoxia, right?”

Renjun’s head swims, memories of dimmed lights and eerie silence flashing through his mind. He sifts through the images for answers, for the indication that the disaster was not as simple as he thought.

It doesn’t make sense.

“Trust _me,_ Renjun. Everything about mission FUSE was secretive besides how it was marketed to the public as an olive branch between China and Korea, but we were able to study some of the old blueprints at my school. A lot of mechanisms were tweaked between the completion of LYRA-1 and the construction of my ship, but most of the basic security functions are the same. For that story to happen the way it went, so many things had to be timed perfectly.” Jeno’s voice wobbles dangerously, as if he doesn’t want to believe the words coming out of his mouth either.

“Think about it. The solar panels initiate electrolysis, which uses sunlight to split water, creating breathable oxygen and hydrogen fuel. Without that, you would have to rely on the backup oxygen tanks, but those were on fire-- that doesn’t just _happen_ , Jun. A fire would eat up the remaining oxygen in the air _and_ consume the spare supply, and it would only grow devastatingly larger from the unnaturally high oxygen flow. It would be almost impossible to put out unless it ran out of fuel entirely, but by then…”

“By that time, we’d already be dead,” Renjun finishes with a sinking feeling, “Whether we’d be killed in the fire or strangled from lack of oxygen, we’d be dead. Everything was so rushed, we didn’t have the proper training to recognize anything that was happening, let alone stop it. The whole mission was like a bandaid to a bullet wound, and we...we were bleeding out no matter what.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s like the worst case scenario. You were essentially on a sinking ship. It would’ve been bad enough for a fire to start on the shuttle, but the deliberate shutdown of the solar panels lured everyone outside so they didn’t even know what was building until it was too late. That doesn’t sound like an accident to me.”

“Oh my God…” The world blurs under Renjun’s feet. Only Jeno’s figure exists in his vision as he struggles to wrap his head around the truth.

It really was sabotage.

But _who_?

“I could have brushed it all off as Murphy’s law, a cruel aligning of the stars or something, but the last transmission…” Jeno shakes his head, distressed, “It all just fits too well. I suppose someone could have taken advantage of the disaster for their own agenda, but that kind of quick thinking is almost unimaginable.”

“I couldn’t even see straight. I can’t imagine someone possessing the wits to spin a deadly situation for their own benefit in a state like that.” Renjun says, trying to reel himself back from the brink of hysteria.

Now isn’t the time to feel the brunt of the pain of one-- or _more_ \-- of his crewmates turning on him. He has to think, has to shuffle through his memories of that day to find something useful.

“Exactly. The fact that a transmission was even able to be relayed amidst the chaos and confusion, let alone such an insidious message...That reeks, to me. What are the odds that the communications systems weren’t shut down like all the others? You and Doyoung were caught off guard by the gradual oxygen deprivation, which is completely understandable, especially since it probably started while you were asleep. What normal, non-medically trained astronaut would have understood what was happening fast enough to radio out a message, if they weren’t the one who set it in motion?”

 _Doyoung._ The name stings, waves of guilt rolling over Renjun. He feels like he failed-- failed to notice the symptoms, failed to save them both, failed failed _failed_. The thought sits heavy in his gut, but another memory dislodges, floating up to his consciousness.

“Wait, wait,” he sits up ramrod straight, skin crawling with horror at the words resting on his tongue, “Doyoung told me that everyone else was outside working on the solar panels. _Everyone else._ There shouldn’t have been anyone near the transmissions in the first place. It...Oh my God, it was a trap. It had to be a trap.”

Renjun stares blankly at his hands. He doesn’t know how to process this new information, what to do with the memories shifting and slotting themselves into place to complete an entirely different puzzle. His entire life feels called into question, illuminated at a slant he’s never experienced before.

How much was real? Who could he trust? Throughout all of his training, his schooling, his mission, his entire life in the space program, who was lurking in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to send it all crumbling down?

“I’m sorry, Jun.”

“It’s not your fault,” Renjun says. He doesn’t know who to blame besides himself.

“It’s not yours, either!” Jeno leans closer, “You did the best you could. We’re going to solve this, together, and we’re going to set the record straight.”

“Together?”

“That’s right.”

“I feel like we make this promise every other day,” Renjun snorts, but he can’t hide how warm the words make him every time. If he keeps repeating them, maybe he’ll start to believe in Jeno’s fairytale.

It’s still foreign to him, the warmth clinging to him like a second skin. Jeno had restored that sensation to his world of bleak grays and empty space, and he savors it in every moment they have.

Jeno picks up the packet of scrambled eggs again. They’re probably not any better at a soggy room temperature, but he takes a bite anyways. “That just means it’s extra strong.”

His face scrunches up in distaste, chewing the rubbery excuse for a food. Renjun sighs fondly as he reaches for the cabinet and prepares an extra bag of freeze dried strawberries.

Jeno doesn’t even lecture him about nutrition when he snatches it gratefully from Renjun’s hand.

He does, however, return to his soapbox immediately after breakfast, grilling Renjun on how important exercise in space is to keep his muscles from atrophying. Renjun suspects that while Jeno is certainly invested in his health, it’s a distraction tactic for both of them.

Renjun doesn’t mind indulging Jeno in his spontaneous ideas, not even when it consists of Jeno trying to cobble together various pieces of gym equipment from the meager supplies on the ship. Since the pod wasn’t created to sustain life long term, the designers had understandably scrapped the special exercise machines that larger ships install to keep the astronauts in decent shape.

They might not be getting a proper workout in, but Renjun is still sweating from how hard he’s laughing at Jeno’s little DIY gym. The other boy is waddling around the ship with random objects tied to his feet in hopes of creating enough resistance to forge a makeshift treadmill. It’s a valiant effort, hands braced against the wall as he tries to run, but it’s not too effective.

If he’s trying to lighten Renjun’s mood, it’s certainly working.

Renjun’s sides hurt from giggling as he pries Jeno away from the wall, leading him to the shower capsule. If nothing else, maybe he’ll have abs from laughter by the time they get rescued.

Jeno sighs heavily at the sight of the shower, which Renjun echoes. It’s really a lengthy, unpleasant experience. Any amount of sweat in space sticks to skin like an infuriating glue, though, so a second shower is unavoidable.

Renjun doesn’t know where he scrapes up the courage from, but the words are out of his mouth before he can swallow them.

“I’ll wash your hair, if you want.”

They don’t speak much as they peel off their clothes, leaving them in their underwear. Their conversation tries to steer clear of too many topics at once, so Renjun ends up humming softly underneath his breath.

It’s a very innocent type of intimacy. True to his word, Renjun works the rinseless shampoo through Jeno’s shaggy hair, and Jeno massages the knots out of Renjun’s shoulders. Jeno draws patterns in liquid soap across his back, and Renjun responds by flicking droplets of water at him.

It’s a lot easier to deal with his thoughts with Jeno pressed up against him, siphoning away the most rotten of the barrel. Renjun still dwells on the sinister nature of his team’s deaths, unable to lock those rogue, wandering thoughts away once that stone was turned over. He can feel his shoulders droop with the weight of the legacies in his hands, the knowledge that he’s the only one who can set history straight.

But then Jeno’s hands run over his skin again and his arms fall around his waist, rocking them in a little slow dance, and suddenly the threats of death and betrayal looming over Renjun don’t feel so intimidating.

Together.

A sponge bath for two might be an odd move on Earth, but in this moment Renjun is more content than he has been in a long time-- even before he last set foot on solid ground.

* * *

A few days later, they’re down to their last two boxes of lithium hydroxide canisters.

Jeno is vibrating with excitement, though, as he paces around the flight deck. Renjun, exhausted just by watching him, pops another M&M in his mouth. He knows Jeno is too preoccupied to scold him.

“I really think this could be it!” Jeno chirps, hands flying in the air, “I think it could work!”

Renjun blinks. “Haven’t you said that for, like, the last dozen plans you came up with?”

Throwing out random ideas and schemes to get them reunited with the crew of AQUILA-3 had become one of Jeno’s signature pastimes. Renjun had assumed that the hobby was complete gibberish, since most of the plans were utterly impossible due to a lack of materials, skills, or time.

“Well, yeah,” Jeno approaches him, grabbing his hand. He looks so eager, youthful excitement shimmering in his smile, “but this time is different. This is something we can actually put into motion.”

There’s a saying that Renjun’s flight school professor used to love: _Reach for the moon. If you fall, you’ll land amongst the stars._

Renjun studies the stars outside his window, and thinks that he’d much rather have fallen back to Earth.

“Is it safe?” he says slowly, watching for the way Jeno’s expression changes. He’s conflicted-- he wants to escape, of _course_ he does, but it’s been so long that he isn’t sure how he’d deal with the change.

He especially doesn’t want to agree to anything that could put their lives at risk, but...when it comes down to it, he trusts Jeno’s judgement. He has for a long time.

Jeno averts his gaze. “I wish I could promise you that, but there’s no way to know until we try. I just...I don’t know what else to do, and our time is running out.”

_Our._

It’s not just Renjun’s life at stake here. No matter how uneasy Renjun is, if Jeno thinks he’s struck gold, he deserves a chance to test out his grand idea. Renjun interlocks their trembling fingers, nodding his head once.

“Okay. Pitch it to me.”

Jeno describes the updated communications systems installed in the spacesuits they use on AQUILA-3. Apparently, technology similar to a walkie talkie system was embedded in the polycarbonate plastic. The tracker involved in those mechanisms is sensitive and strongly linked to its sister products, affording them a much larger bubble of sensitivity than if they solely relied on their tiny shuttle appearing on AQUILA-3’s flight radar.

If they get within reasonable range of Jeno’s ship, his crew could pick up on the signals from his suit and come rescue them.

“If they stuck to the mission trajectory, they should have started there,” Jeno’s hands are splayed out against the window, fingers drawing lines and loops as he recreates his ship’s flight path. It’s eerily reminiscent of Renjun and his constellations, zigzagging across the stars.

“I can’t be sure that they’re on schedule, especially not if my... _departure_...held them up,” Jeno chews guiltily on his lip, but quickly shakes it off and returns to his mental map. “But assuming they are, by the time we reach their range they should be about here.” Jeno circles three stars, slanted in a line. Renjun smiles wryly.

Renjun’s warrior looks back at him with a hopeful smile. Renjun nods along, but he still can’t quite follow Jeno’s train of thought. Knowing the approximate location of Jeno’s ship is nice, but it doesn’t change anything. They could have pinned that down ages ago.

“Isn’t the whole problem that the ship is unusable?” Renjun points out, “How are we supposed to get in range of AQUILA-3 if we can’t fly? According to that trajectory, it’ll take months before they loop around, and it’d take a massive stroke of luck for them to happen to come close enough that they can sense us.”

Renjun doesn’t have a great track record with luck.

“That’s just it! We’ll have to come to them, but I think we can finesse our way into making this baby move.” Jeno pats the wall of the shuttle affectionately.

Oh God, Jeno has finally lost it.

Renjun’s face must not be doing a great job at concealing his thoughts, because Jeno whines, lower lip jutting out. Fuck, the _pout_.

“Oh, stop with the puppy eyes. I’m listening.”

“I’ve been assessing the ship since I got here, and I think I have an idea of what the biggest limitations are. Obviously, most of the systems like the communications and the flight control boards are fried, and the main rudder is torn. I really can’t fix electrical issues like those without more equipment and training, but there might be a way to tamper with the engine enough to turn it on.”

Renjun sits back, already shaking his head in trepidation. “Jeno, that sounds so dangerous. I don’t know...”

“Listen, Jun. A lot of fuel was eaten up in the explosion, but there should still be some left. It’s just that the engine won’t catch. Even if I can hack it, I doubt it will hold up for very long. The best I can do is get the engines working long enough to point us in the right direction and give us a small push. Hopefully we won’t encounter any obstacles and inertia will carry us roughly to where AQUILA-3 will be able to sense my comms and take it from there. It won’t be dangerous. All I need to do is experiment with the wiring in the aft fuselage, okay?” Jeno squeezes Renjun’s hands, gently toying with his fingers.

Renjun presses his lips in a thin line, unable to squash the nausea simmering in his gut.

He trusts Jeno with his life. It’s time to make good on that vow.

“Okay,” he rasps, and Jeno’s grip tightens around him, “Okay. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not terrified, but I trust you. If you can actually turn this ship around, I think I’d have to kiss you.”

It’s a weak attempt at a joke to play down his anxiety, but somehow Jeno smiles even wider than he has all morning.

“Guess I have quite the incentive then, hm?”

* * *

Jeno ducks down to the aft fuselage to tinker with the shuttle’s wiring, leaving Renjun to take up the role of pacing restlessly around the flight deck.

They had raided every area of the ship to piece together makeshift tools for Jeno, rustling through Renjun’s medical kit and any spare cargo slots in the payload bay. The effort had dredged up far more odd objects and papers than Renjun had expected to find tucked away in little hidden compartments of the pod.

It was strange. He would have thought that he or Jeno would have discovered the last of the ship’s secrets by now, but he supposes months of the same gray walls and dark screens had him believing that trying was futile.

He wonders when that mentality had started to slide away.

Renjun shuffles nervously through the items strewn across the pilot’s quarters. Every so often, he wanders through the crew cabin and towards the aft fuselage, asking Jeno if he needs anything. Each time, Jeno responds with a soft voice and a placating smile.

“Everything is fine, Jun.”

Renjun paces harder. He can’t concentrate on anything around him while Jeno is working. He sings under his breath, draws patterns on the window, and taps out calming rhythms against his arms. None of it does anything to quell the uneasy storm broiling inside him.

Hours pass. Jeno only takes breaks when Renjun forces food into him, an echo of the beginning of their time together with the roles reversed. Jeno is brimming with passion, invigorated by this lead. It’s nice to see him swept up in a project, so fully invested in something that he won’t rest until it’s done.

There isn’t much for Renjun to do besides sit, wait, and pray.

Too many thoughts and emotions fight for Renjun’s attention at once. The concept of leaving the pod alive still feels like a far off dream, one that he won’t be able to believe until he lives it in the flesh. So many doubts swirl in him about his life, his worth, and his responsibility to his crewmates to bring them justice.

Above all, though, he thinks of Jeno.

As if on cue, Jeno’s voice floats across the pod. “Junnie! I think I’ve got it!”

Renjun leaps into the crew cabin, where Jeno is dusting his hands off on his pants. With a grin, Jeno envelopes Renjun in a hug and spins him in a delighted circle.

“I think this is going to work. I’ve reconnected some of the wires so that the lower engines should be able to run without going through the dead flight controls.”

“That’s incredible, Jeno!” Renjun allows a fragment of Jeno’s hope to take root in his chest, laying his cheek on Jeno’s shoulder. Maybe this really will turn out okay. Maybe he’s worrying for nothing. “I’m so proud of you.”

They remain wrapped up in each other for a few moments, basking in the feeling of rescue around the corner.

Jeno pulls back to level Renjun with a confident look. “Obviously, none of the buttons on the control boards work, so I’m going to have to jump start the engines from the aft fuselage. I have no idea how this thing will maneuver, or if we can control much of the steering at all. I won’t be able to see. Can you stay on the flight deck and holler when we’re roughly oriented towards AQUILA-3?”

Renjun bobs his head weakly, unable to mask the concern tugging at his lips. But here, in Jeno’s arms, he feels invincible. Nothing can touch him, not even the fear festering in his fingertips.

“Will do. I’ll be your eyes, captain.”

Jeno squeezes him close before breaking for the aft fuselage. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the job.”

“Well good, because I’m the only one you’re gonna get,” Renjun mumbles to himself as he pushes off towards the flight deck. He takes up his pacing with a renewed intensity, peering through the windows as he waits for his cue.

“Ready?” Jeno’s faint voice ricochets off the steel walls, and Renjun shouts back an affirmative that he’s not sure he means.

Is he ready?

Regardless, Renjun presses two fingers over his warrior constellation and waits for the pod to start turning. The shuttle creaks and groans, which is more activity than Renjun has seen from it since Doyoung ejected it from LYRA-1, and his breath catches in his throat with anticipation.

But then a few beats pass, and the stars don’t move out from under his fingertips.

Disappointed, Renjun frowns as he steps back. Did the engine not work? Surely Jeno would have said something by now if nothing was happening. Maybe it was just slower than Renjun expected.

He strains his neck, searching around each window pane of the flight deck for any changes. It’s the same view he’s been staring at for nearly a year now, down to every last detail.

They haven’t moved. Where is Jeno?

“Jeno?” Renjun calls, but there’s no response. Logically, Renjun knows that the aft fuselage is almost the furthest point away from the flight deck and might be hard for Jeno to hear him, but his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest.

He draws away from the window after another dismayingly stationary moment, intending to fetch Jeno and ask about the hold up.

But when he turns, something catches his eye.

Renjun presses himself to the window again, breath fogging up the glass. With his cheek smashed up against it, he can just barely glimpse the flickers of blue flame erupting at the opposite end of the vessel. As he watches, a piece of white casing from the ship’s outer shell flies past the window.

Something’s wrong.

“Jeno,” Renjun gasps, an ugly pit forming in his stomach, “Jeno! Jeno, cut the engine! _Now!_ ”

Renjun doesn’t register his surroundings shifting as he flings himself through the shuttle, blood rushing in his ears. He’s shaking like a leaf, barely able to grasp any handholds to push him into the aft fuselage. He can feel his heart slamming against his ribcage, lungs constricting.

This time, he doesn’t think he’s imagining the smoke trickling into the main cabin, or the slow groaning building in the bowels of the ship.

“Stop, Jeno! Stop!” Renjun crashes into the wall, breathing hard. Jeno nearly drops the complicated mass of wires in his hands as he rockets to his feet, reaching out for the other boy.

“Renjun? What’s wrong?!”

Renjun wrenches away from his advancing hands. “Cut off the engine, right now!”

Jeno immediately turns and disconnects the wires without question. The shuttle makes an awful sputtering sound, but the whirring continues to build.

The pod lurches to the side, sending Renjun tumbling on his unsteady legs. He latches onto Jeno’s sleeve, dragging him out and back into the crew cabin.

“Something is _wrong_!” he cries, gesturing at the windows. More bits of debris swirl around the pod, and the engines continue to spit an ugly tar into the space around them. Slowly, the room grows hazier with smoke. Jeno’s face darkens at the sight.

“There must have been something caught in the engine before we turned it on,” Jeno’s jaw drops in horror, “I cut off the power source, but there must already be a reaction happening!”

“How...” Renjun shivers, arms wrapping protectively around himself, “What do we do?”

“This is all my fault, Jun,” Jeno’s voice quivers with emotion, swallowing back his sobs, “but I’m going to fix this. I swear, I’m going to fix this!”

Jeno’s hands tremble as he strokes the back of Renjun’s head, pressing his lips to his forehead for the most fleeting moment before he tears towards the airlock.

“Wait, Jeno!” Renjun can’t hold back the tears springing to his eyes, fear flooding his veins as he desperately stumbles in pursuit, “You _can’t_!”

Renjun flings open the airlock door after Jeno. The other boy is already haphazardly throwing on his AQUILA-3 space suit. Beyond the outer door, flaming fragments of metal slam against the ship.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Jeno?!” Renjun shrieks, grabbing Jeno’s elbow. Jeno twists out of the hold and snatches up his helmet and gloves, shrugging on his SAFER backpack.

He has no tether.

“We have to do something, Renjun,” Jeno pleads with him as he finishes suiting up, even though Renjun can tell he didn’t put all the proper undergarments on in his haste. “This is the only way!”

“No, Jen, you’re going to get yourself fucking killed!” Renjun’s fist smashes against the side of the airlock. He can feel the cabin start to depressurize. He needs to get out-- _they_ need to get out. “There’s not enough time to adjust, the pressure drop is going to kill you!”

He’s sobbing now, scrabbling at the thick materials of Jeno’s suit, begging him to stay.

“I won’t break my promise.” Jeno whispers between choked up lungfuls of air. He looks every bit as terrified as Renjun that he won’t be able to stay true to his word, but he pastes on a brave smile as he hugs Renjun close.

In Jeno’s arms, he’s untouchable, but this feels too much like a goodbye.

Jeno pushes him back through the inner door as the airlock’s pressure plummets faster than a human body can healthily withstand, faster than all their protocols allow.

Renjun is once again wailing, smashing his fists against impenetrable glass as his life spirals beyond his control. He’s reliving the day of the explosion all over again, helpless and trapped as his world comes apart at the seams.

Jeno _promised._

Those are the regurgitated words he howls at the airlock door even though he knows that Jeno is long gone, already clinging to the outside of the ship in a desperate attempt to neutralize the reaction.

“You promised you’d stay! You promised you wouldn’t leave me! You _promised!”_

The words snip his heartstrings and slice up the underside of his tongue as he bawls to the empty air. He’s never felt so useless, so _hopeless._

It’s an ugly echo of a skin he thought he’d shed long ago.

Fear envelopes him, all of his trauma pouring over him at once. Terror rattles at his teeth and severs his Achilles tendons, and he would have collapsed from the weight of the world crashing into him if not for the buoyancy of the ship. His chest tears apart at the edges with heartbreak and pain, red hot agony searing through the outer layers of his skin.

_Allowing Jeno in is a risk-- Renjun doesn’t know if he could survive abandonment a second time._

He can’t. He _can’t_. Not if it’s Jeno. He can feel the fresh anguish scorching across his neural pathways, pain signals alighting across his flesh.

It’s not just anyone out there, fighting for both their lives amidst the flames and swirling debris, it’s Jeno.

Renjun isn’t afraid of losing Jeno because he’s his only form of human contact, his only light in the dark, or his one shot at rescue-- he can't lose Jeno because he’s _Jeno._

Jeno, who took such good care of him when he had no reason to care. Jeno, who soothed him from his panic attacks and made sure he was getting healthy. Jeno, who held him close and whispered tales of a beautiful happy ending to him when the darkness and depression grew too loud. Jeno, who welcomed everything about him with open arms, who never shamed Renjun or judged him for his fears, but instead assured him that they’d hold strong throughout it all.

Jeno, who he loves.

Jeno, who he will save no matter what.

Renjun scrubs the tears from his face, straightening up and forcing deep breaths into his starving lungs. Braced against the airlock door, it finally dawns on him that he can’t change what has already happened, he can only prepare for what’s to come.

He won’t sit idly and watch the person he loves die.

“My name is Huang Renjun.”

Renjun falls easily into the groove of words he spoke to an empty chair for so many months. They fit nice and round in his mouth, as if they’d been waiting for the day they could finally be useful.

“I was the flight surgeon for shuttle LYRA-1 of mission FUSE, top of the class in my day.”

Renjun methodically moves between the flight deck and the space in front of the inner airlock door, transporting all of his medical tools.

“Decompression illness, also known as generalized barotrauma, happens when a person is exposed to sudden extreme pressure changes without proper adjustment. Nitrogen dissolved in the bloodstream separates from the blood, expanding into bubbles of gas in the surrounding blood and tissue.”

Renjun had recited his old lessons to himself for so long as a method of keeping himself sane, and he can’t thank himself enough for keeping his skills fresh. It helped to feel useful back then, even if there was no one around to save but himself, but he’s not alone anymore.

“Nitrogen gas bubbles in the blood can block blood flow and damage blood vessels. For these reasons, in intense cases such as in outer space, generalized barotrauma can cause dizziness, weakness, extreme fatigue, obstruction of brain functions, paralysis, and death.”

He’s not alone, and if he has any say in the matter, that won’t be changing anytime soon.

“Bubbles can also enter the lung circulation in cases of arterial gas embolism, causing significant tissue damage all over the body and especially to the brain. Besides death from blood flow blockage, any one of the symptoms of decompression illness can indirectly prove fatal in such a fragile environment as a spacewalk.”

Renjun stumbles into the lower deck of the pod, vision blurring with barely suppressed panic. He’s still crying, still shaking, but he has a goal to work towards now, a purpose to ground him.

He’s not weak. He’s not helpless. He can fix this.

“Emergency treatments for extreme decompression sickness can be difficult, but the most important thing is to reverse the effects, driving the nitrogen back into liquid form.”

He knows decompression sickness is only one factor, the only thing he can plan for based on the botched deployment. Nearing the engines is dangerous enough on it’s own, but they have no idea when the snag in the system will make it blow. He can’t predict all the injuries Jeno will come back with, but he can do his best to be prepared.

He won’t allow himself to think of a scenario where Jeno doesn’t come back at all.

Jeno promised. And Renjun responds with a promise of his own, that as long as Jeno holds up his end, Renjun will bring him back from any wounds he may suffer in the process.

He can’t even focus on the rumbling that shakes the steel walls of the mid fuselage. He doesn’t know what Jeno is doing out there. He can only pray that the violent shuddering means that something is working.

He won’t accept any other answer.

Renjun dislodges a spare oxygen tank from the mid fuselage, dragging the tube with him back to the airlock. He has no idea if this will work, but he has to try.

He owes it to Jeno, to believe in them both.

Renjun braces himself by the inner door, taking stock of each item in sight. So many random items are strewn about from the chaos, but he zeroes in on a few key things.

He can tear apart the fabric of the sleeping bag or one of their extra shirts to staunch the flow of any bleeding. Using those and some bits of metal from the fuselage, he’s confident that he can also harvest thread and a makeshift sterilized needle to stitch up any wounds.

Renjun has the steadiest hands in his class. He prides himself on them.

The shuttle groans again, pitching Renjun to the side. He clings onto the door, waiting waiting _waiting_ for the beeping that will signify Jeno’s re-entry.

He’s ready. Now, it’s all on Jeno to come back to him.

“Please, please, come back,” Renjun whines into the thickening air. He had changed out the rapidly draining canister of lithium hydroxide when he grabbed the tank of pure oxygen, but it might not be enough to combat the acrid smoke creeping into the ship.

He doesn’t know what they’ll do if they run out entirely.

“I trust you, Jeno. I trust you. Come back to me.”

Renjun lays his forehead against the cold metal door, hoping his whispered pleas will be spirited through the empty chambers and somehow reach the boy he loves.

He’s still alive out there. Renjun can feel it.

Renjun speaks to him to ease the panic threatening to tip him over the edge. He tells Jeno all about how wonderful it will be when they can splash in the rain again, how incredible the wind will feel on their skin when they set foot on solid ground. Breaths stuttering in his chest, Renjun manages to weave lovely promises from the thick smoke crawling down his throat.

He can only hope Jeno hears them.

The shuttle rocks once more. Renjun holds down the bubble of nausea in his stomach, gripping onto the door with white knuckles. With a final rumble, the ship finally falls quiet.

It’s over.

Renjun holds his breath, waiting, praying, pleading, _promising,_ but it’s silent.

And then, he begins to tune into a familiar sound.

It sounds like air being pumped through the pod’s pressurization system, a certain high pitched _whoosh_ that he clings to, desperately, as a sign that the worst of it has passed them by.

He doesn’t know what lies ahead of him as his shaking fingers find the airlock button. Whatever it is, he’s prepared to take the reins of his once doomed timeline and force them back onto the right path. He’s not helpless-- he never was. Emotionally broken after the disaster, he just never let himself try. He didn’t have a reason to go on, until now.

No matter what happens, they will overcome it together.

Together. Just like they promised.

After an eternity of anxiety searing through Renjun’s veins, the airlock finally indicates that it’s properly pressurized. The hatch opens agonizingly slowly, and Renjun staggers headfirst into the chamber ahead.

An astronaut lays in a crumpled heap just before the outer door, fitted in a light blue padded spacesuit and a tinted helmet. There’s no movement beyond the slight, shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“ _Jeno!”_

Renjun whimpers, by his side in an instant. He tears off each layer of the mangled suit, desperately digging through to uncover the boy wrapped within. Even in his frenzy, Renjun’s hands don’t shake when they unhook the clasps holding the helmet to the neck ring, setting the astronaut free.

Underneath the equipment, all bloody and scorched and torn, is a boy.

“Oh, _Jen_ ,” Renjun sobs, placing one hand on Jeno’s cold cheek. He doesn’t allow the tears to slip down his face for more than a second before he’s in action again, lifting Jeno into his arms as gently as possible.

He tries not to jostle the boy as he rests him flat on his back in the sleeping chamber. There’s no way to tilt the head of the bed down like emergency treatments recommend, so Renjun does his best by cradling Jeno’s head in his hands and propping the boy’s feet up on the wall of the pod.

“You’ll be just fine, Jen, you’ll be okay,” Renjun says it more like a prayer than a statement. Bloody froth trickles from Jeno’s mouth and nose, staining the bed below. Renjun wipes at it with his sleeve, but it won’t stop.

Jeno’s chest rises and falls.

Without leaving his side, Renjun snatches the tube of the oxygen tank and presses it to Jeno’s mouth. He seals his fingers around the connection, hoping for every scrap of the element to make it into Jeno’s lungs.

Rise, fall.

Renjun can’t do much to control the pressure in the cabin or the pressure of the oxygen gas he’s administering. He’s banking on the pure oxygen being able to drive the nitrogen gas bubbles back into a soluble liquid form, but the damage may already be done.

Rise.

“Jeno, love, you told me you wouldn’t leave!” Renjun cries into his chest, fingers holding steady around the tube. Thankfully, his other injuries seem minor for the most part. If Renjun can reverse the arterial gas embolism, Jeno should be okay.

Fall.

He has to be okay.

Renjun presses a lump of gauze against a bleeding gash on Jeno’s side, his free hand fluttering frantically around the still body.

Fall.

The oxygen tank drains quicker than Renjun had hoped. Jeno’s eyes are still closed, tremors wracking his frame, and splotches of red rashes spread across his skin. When Renjun holds his hand up to Jeno’s lips, the puffs of air escaping are weak and uneven. Renjun begs into Jeno’s neck, crying out for him.

“You can’t die here, Jeno. You _can’t._ I can’t lose you, please!”

Fall.

“Open your eyes, god fucking _damn_ it--” Renjun chokes through his sobs, but his grip on reality is already weakening. Dizzy, the room around them fades into nothingness.

Jeno’s chest hasn’t moved in fifteen seconds.

“ _No!_ ” An ugly wail tears from Renjun’s throat as he attacks the situation with newfound strength. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ give up on me, Jeno!”

He is Huang Renjun, top flight surgeon of his school, first candidate for the most highly anticipated space collaboration of their era.

Fall.

He will not let Lee Jeno die.

He’s screaming, shouting, rattling the fragile walls of the beaten up craft as he hunts through his supplies. He rips open his drawstring bag, seizing a roll of medical tape and his old rubber band ball. His fingers start to shake as he peels off a few bands.

Fall.

Adrenaline is one hell of a drug, as is desperation.

“We’re going to make it back, together. _Together_. I won’t let you break your promise now.”

Moving entirely on autopilot as grief dissolves his world at the edges, Renjun constructs a small contraption to keep the oxygen tube strapped to Jeno’s mouth. He pumps frantically at the boy’s chest, hoping to kick his lungs into action again.

Fail.

“W-We haven’t danced in a thunderstorm yet or finished that book of Sudoku puzzles,” Renjun’s voice cracks with the sorrow soaking the words between his teeth, “I need to prove to you why Red Velvet is one of the greatest bands of all time, and you still need to introduce me to your crew. Please, love, they’re waiting for you. I know they are.”

_It can’t end here._

The oxygen tank releases an awful sucking sound. Renjun bites back a cry of frustration at the empty canister.

“ _Fuck!”_

He pries the tube from Jeno’s lips, tossing the tank to the other side of the cabin. Without pausing the chest compressions, Renjun forces deep breaths into his own chest to slow his sobs. The air in his lungs isn’t as good as pure, filtered oxygen, but it will have to do.

Failure.

This is not how their celebratory kiss was supposed to go.

Renjun whispers his apologies to Jeno before connecting their lips, desperately pumping air into the boy’s system.

Blue lips, blue fingertips.

Jeno’s mouth is cold and rigid against his own. The sensation sends a crushing agony circulating through Renjun’s system because Jeno has never been cold, _never._ Jeno embodies warmth and hope and golden smiles and eyes curving up in happiness, he isn’t supposed to be unmoving and cold and--

Failure, Renjun. Failure.

Nothing can deter Renjun from his goal. No matter how futile it seems, he will stand by Jeno’s side and do everything in his power to save him until it’s his own turn to dance with the grim reaper.

He won’t give up.

Even when doubt creeps through his veins and hopelessness tries to pry his fingers from Jeno’s chest, he won’t let them win. Not this time.

Fall.

He will bargain with the heavens and make deals with the devil and spite the fates, he will go to war with the darkness staining his fingertips and the trauma slicing paper cuts into the flesh of his heart and the depression lurking between the wrinkles of his brain, he will do _anything_ just to feel--

_Rise._

Renjun’s breath hitches at the skin expanding under his fingertips, but he can’t let his guard down so easily. He’s still whispering frenzied pleas between delivering lungfuls of air, pumping Jeno’s chest.

He doesn’t know what sign he’s looking for, so he toils on.

_Just one more time, Renjun, just keep going._

He can’t stop his hysterical sobs, tears soaking into Jeno’s bloodstained collar. Jeno’s lips twitch ever so slightly when he meets them again. Relief crawls into the chambers of Renjun’s heart, but he can’t believe it, he can’t slip up now, he can’t--

Rise, fall.

A warm hand cups the back of Renjun’s head the next time he presses their lips together, holding him close, begging him to stay.

Renjun does, of course.

He collapses against Jeno’s chest, a choked whine escaping from him as he reconnects their mouths. They move softly against each other like they’re afraid one of them will break. Renjun’s hands abandon their position to cradle the other boy’s jaw.

It’s electric-- _alive._

Their foreheads touch as they separate, Jeno’s hand still tangled in Renjun’s hair. Renjun’s thumb swipes reverently over Jeno’s lower lip, watching as the color slowly returns to it. Jeno’s eyes are barely cracked open as he returns to consciousness, returns to _life_ , but the amount of affection in his gaze is enough to make Renjun dissolve into tears again.

“I told you I’d bring you home, Jun,” Jeno rasps between weak breaths.

His eyelids flutter shut again, eyes rolling back in his head, and Renjun frantically smooths his hands all over the boy’s cheeks, lips, hair, anywhere he can make contact, begging him to stay awake.

“Stay with me,” Renjun weeps, “Don’t-- d-don’t leave me, ever again.”

Jeno’s slurred words finally sink into Renjun’s fear-addled mind, and Renjun’s brows scrunch together even harder in the middle of his forehead. He can feel the stress headache pounding away behind his eyes and tearing at his eardrums, but he’s so finely attuned to every little shudder and tremor rippling through Jeno’s body that he can’t acknowledge anything else.

A wobbly, bloody grin quirks at the corners of Jeno’s warming lips. With his waning strength, he lifts a crooked finger, pointing over Renjun’s left shoulder.

“I promised.”

Unwilling to take his eyes off Jeno for even a moment, Renjun’s head slowly swivels to follow Jeno’s gesture, anticipation twisting in his stomach. His mouth drops open at the sight that meets his gaze.

One, two, three stars in a slanted line.

The nose of the craft is pointed straight at Renjun’s warrior constellation, and the debris outside their window drifts lazily past them. It’s not a particularly strong start, but they’re moving.

They’re _moving,_ right on course to meet AQUILA-3 _._

“We’re going to make it, love. We’re going to be okay.”

They don’t let go of each other for hours. Renjun ensures that Jeno’s pulse is steady and that he’s no longer in danger before he finally allows the boy to fall asleep, succumbing to the residue of fatigue from his brush with death.

Even then, Renjun refuses to close his eyes. He keeps one hand on Jeno’s chest, clinging to the tangible evidence that he’s alive. His heartbeat thrums gently under his skin and the gentle, even movements of his chest as he drifts into deep sleep grounds Renjun so that the trauma curled around his brain stem can’t trick him into believing that he failed.

The other hand lays on the side of Jeno’s neck, pinky finger tangled in the chain of his necklace. His pulse point beats steadily against Renjun’s palm. Renjun’s thumb strokes in a matching rhythm across Jeno’s cheek.

Awake and on guard, Renjun is there to soothe Jeno back to sleep with soft lullabies when he jolts from a nightmare. He’s there to bare his teeth at the demons that come knocking at their door, to take care of Jeno as Jeno has always done for him.

They’re down to one tank of oxygen and their last small box of lithium hydroxide canisters.

None of that seems to matter, though, with Jeno and Renjun alive in each other’s arms and their plan set in motion. They’re on the brink of rescue.

Renjun can only pray that it will reach them in time.


	3. POP

Once the dust settles comes the aftermath.

Renjun jolts awake, fear thrumming against his skin when he realizes he had fallen asleep. Jeno is laying beside him, eyelashes fluttering gently against his flushed skin. His breaths come evenly, and Renjun presses a hand to his own chest to calm himself down.

He allows himself a few minutes to trace his eyes over Jeno, savoring every dip and curve of his face and carefully slotting it into his memory. His gaze snags on how the faint blue light from the sleeping pod pools across his cheekbone, how his lips are slightly parted, how his strong features accentuate his face as he relaxes into the sleeping bag.

Renjun basks in Jeno as if he might never see him again-- because for a brief, terrifying period, he thought he truly had lost moments like these forever.

Tenderly, Renjun brushes a piece of hair away from Jeno’s face. His chin is still blotted with dried blood and his shirt is in tatters, making Renjun wince. They’ll have to clean up once Jeno wakes, but Renjun will let him rest for as long as he needs.

Finally feeling secure enough to separate from Jeno, Renjun clambers out of the chamber. He stalls to take in the sight of his peaceful sleeping beauty, but only for another second or two. Or three. Whatever.

Renjun hums to himself to boost his mood, still shaken after the chaos. The motions of cleaning soothe him. He starts with the mess of tools strewn over the floor of the crew cabin, reorganizing everything back into his medical bag. Picking up the empty oxygen tank sets off instinctive unease in his gut, but another quick check on Jeno puts his mind at ease again.

It’s okay. It’s okay. Renjun opens the last box of lithium hydroxide and slots a canister into the system. It’s okay.

Living on borrowed time hasn’t caught up to him yet. He can stretch this out a little longer.

Renjun heads to the rehydration system to scrounge up a decent breakfast. The cabinets are unsettlingly bare, but he manages to piece together a decent meal with some artistic license and forgiving taste buds.

He’s just finished mixing up a tube of watery orange juice when a mechanical _swoosh_ comes from the crew quarters. Renjun’s head snaps to the entrance, where a very wobbly Jeno is hovering with bleary eyes.

“‘Mornin’,” he mumbles, and Renjun’s jaw drops.

“Just _what_ do you think you’re doing out of bed so soon?” Renjun herds him back to the sleeping pod with a click of his tongue. The audacity of this guy, really.

“Your body just went through immense physical trauma. You need to be more gentle with yourself, it’s going to be a while longer before you can handle abrupt movements.” Renjun coaxes the boy back into the pod, but keeps the divider down. They need to work him gradually from laying down to sitting to standing.

“But I missed you,” Jeno whines. He’s half-lucid and pouting, eyes hazy and every other word interrupted by a yawn, “Can we kiss again?”

Renjun splutters, an embarrassed squeak escaping him. He can feel his ears burning bright red, and the worst part is that even though he’s mostly unconscious, Jeno looks all too serious.

“W-Wipe the gross blood off your chin and then we’ll talk,” Renjun crosses his arms, lips jutting out in a pout. His flustered state doesn’t stop him from adjusting the sleeping bag over Jeno’s shoulders and strapping him in before returning to their shoddily scavenged breakfast.

Renjun returns later with Jeno’s food. He helps the other boy sit up slowly, careful not to push him too far at a time. Jeno seems much more aware this time, but he doesn’t take back his words. Renjun wonders if he remembers them at all, but the way the back of Jeno’s hand lingers over his lips when he wipes orange juice from his mouth speaks volumes.

Renjun tries to ignore the tingling of his own lips.

The silence is comfortable even though both of them are avoiding addressing...many things. Despite being more collected, Jeno still looks absolutely wrecked, suffering deep eyebags, some minor wounds, and red rashes splashed across his skin that have yet to fade. Renjun doesn’t know how to approach anything without breaking down entirely, so he just ignores it.

Outside their window, the stars inch by.

They munch on their breakfast. Renjun is curled in the corner of the pod to avoid crowding Jeno. The boy’s fingers twitch sometimes as if he wants to reach out for Renjun, but he focuses on his food. Eventually, he turns his head to the window as well and watches the Earth shift across the glass.

Once Jeno is able to be upright without collapsing, Renjun leads him to the shower capsule. He hesitates by it, casting an awkward glance to Jeno.

It shouldn’t be weird-- they’ve done this before. Sponge baths are enough of a pain when they’re both healthy and capable of taking care of themselves. It makes perfect sense to help Jeno in this situation, so why does everything feel so different now?

“Stop thinking,” Jeno’s breath ghosts across the shell of Renjun’s ear, making him shiver. Weak as he is, Jeno manages to pull Renjun into the chamber with him.

To be fair, Renjun isn’t resisting. He resolves to follow Jeno’s lead, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Jeno’s finger trails patterns and pretty words through the soap on Renjun’s skin. His recovering muscles spasm occasionally, breaking rhythm, but Renjun doesn’t mind. It feels so nice to be held, to be _loved_.

It’s here where Renjun finally cracks.

He’s scrubbing the crusted blood off Jeno’s face. Each time his fingers swipe over a spot, all he can see is bloody froth spilling from pale flesh, all he can feel is Jeno’s limp body and stuttering pulse, all he can think is--

“I thought I lost you,” Renjun whispers, rubbing at the skin harder than necessary. The blood should be all gone by now, so why do Jeno’s dead eyes stare back at him like that?

Jeno’s fingers circle around his wrists, gently pulling Renjun’s hands away from his face. Renjun’s head is bowed, shoulders shaking as aftershocks of loss and fear sear through him. He can’t scrape away the sensation of Jeno’s frozen lips on his, the awful feeling of a life at its end.

“I’m sorry, love,” Jeno draws Renjun in close, tucking him protectively into his side, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know it was reckless, but I couldn’t just let you die from my foolish mistake.”

Renjun wants to playfully swat at Jeno’s shoulder and fire off some stupid quip about how chivalry isn’t dead, but he can’t bring himself to lighten the tension.

He’s still processing the surreal knowledge that the crisis has passed, that they’re not in immediate danger anymore, that they’re on their way to better things. Even with Jeno wrapped around him, he can’t shake off the roaring fears that taunt him by pouring water over the flame of Jeno’s hope.

“You can’t throw your life away like that, okay?” Renjun trembles in his arms. He’s well aware that Jeno’s impulsiveness, his unwavering commitment to his values, is exactly what brought him to Renjun. “Never again.”

He just doesn’t want it to be what tears him away.

Jeno shushes him gently, dropping soft kisses onto the top of his head. Renjun melts into his touches, clinging to him as if he may be spirited away by the wind if Renjun isn’t there to hold him down.

“Never again,” he agrees as they sway back and forth in the tiny chamber, matching necklaces twinkling on their necks.

* * *

Jeno looks a lot more lively with the color back in his cheeks and fresh clothes on his body. Renjun still makes him take it easy, settling him down on the pilot’s chair as he fusses about the craft, putting away random items that were thrown about in the pandemonium.

Renjun is in the middle of wrangling up some loose wires that floated by when Jeno calls for him. He’s at his side within the next breath, worried eyes scanning him over for any danger.

“Jun, I’m okay. You can relax,” Jeno says. His eyes curve up in those pretty crescents again, which are very hard to argue with. Renjun can feel his shoulders drop obediently. Jeno beckons him closer to examine the ragged piece of paper in his hand.

It appears to be a half a page torn from an instruction booklet. Renjun squints at the bits of faded ink that survived, but it doesn’t look like it corresponds to any machine he’s seen on the escape pod. Jeno turns it over to reveal faint scribbles on the back.

“Can you understand it? It looks like Chinese, but I don’t know what it says.”

“What the hell…” Renjun takes it, running light fingers over the ink. His pulse picks up as he drinks in the looping characters. “Jeno, where did you find this?”

Jeno motions vaguely to the dead control board. “I found it wedged under a few things, like it wasn’t meant to be found. A lot of stuff got dredged up yesterday, and I guess this came with it.”

Almost imperceptibly, Renjun’s fingers start to tremble around the paper. “This is Cantonese, not Mandarin. I can only make out a few words, but it looks like they’re notes for operating...something. Some sort of procedural notes, I don’t know.”

Renjun pushes himself to the floor, sitting cross legged with his hand pressed to his mouth in thought. “It’s just weird, because people hardly write in Cantonese anymore. I don’t...I don’t understand how this got here?”

Renjun’s voice pitches up at the end with uncertainty. It’s odd. This scrap of paper is clearly not his or Jeno’s handwriting-- it’s the first trace of other human life that Renjun has seen since LYRA-1 exploded.

“It must have been written by someone from your crew, right? The original paper looks like it would match something on LYRA-1.” Jeno muses. He taps his finger against his lip thoughtfully, and Renjun tries not to track the motion.

“I don’t know where else it would have come from. The base we launched from spoke Korean and Mandarin only, so I don’t think it would have come from an official on the ground.” Renjun wraps his arms around himself, troubled. “Um...I know Yukhei was from Hong Kong, but I don’t know if he spoke Cantonese. There was no reason because no one else would have been able to understand it...I think?”

Most of the candidates for mission FUSE had to be somewhat proficient in both Mandarin and Korean in order for communication to flow smoothly. Renjun was able to speak to both parties with ease since he’s fluent in both languages, but the others were only conversational in their non-native tongue. He can’t remember any members of the Chinese fleet talking in Cantonese amongst themselves.

It was already difficult to get on the same page if Renjun wasn’t around to bridge the gap between the astronauts. He can’t understand why any one of them would deliberately write notes in a language that no one else aboard could use.

“Renjun,” Jeno says gently, as if afraid to shatter Renjun’s fragile emotional state, “Do you think that’s what he wanted?”

Renjun shrinks into himself with distress painted across his face. He thought that he had come to terms with the fact that his ship was sabotaged, but trying to match a face to the act slices the wound right open again.

When he speaks, his voice is small and hesitant, “Not Yukhei...It can’t be. Why would he…a _suicide_ mission? I don’t think...I...”

Jeno opens his arms. Renjun doesn’t hesitate to take him up on the offer, slotting himself into the boy’s side.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, I know it hurts,” Jeno says, brushing his fingertips through Renjun’s hair, “But on the day of the explosion, did you see anything suspicious? Can you remember for me?”

Renjun chews at his lip. Jeno’s eyes flicker down, then back up. “Well...we ran to the flight deck first. There was-- I saw a body by the transmissions, but my vision was so fucked that I couldn’t see exactly who it was. They were tall, though, and bulky. That day, I thought it was Yukhei. He wasn’t moving, but there was something on his face. I assumed he figured out something was wrong and rushed in to help but the fumes got to him…”

Jeno ponders that for a moment. “If the fire started at the mid-fuselage, you and Doyoung would have been affected first, before anyone on the flight deck. If you were still alive-- unless he had some underlying health issues or encountered some other threat-- that doesn’t make sense. And if it all happened as fast as you’ve described, do you think Yukhei would have had enough time to notice, come back from the repair mission, wait for the airlock to pressurize, and all that?”

Jeno is just thinking out loud, but with every word another stone drops into Renjun’s stomach. All the events of that day, as hazy as they are, flash through his mind as he struggles to sift through them for more clues, more _answers_.

“No,” Renjun chokes, “No, he was in his normal clothes. I know that. D-Doyoung didn’t mention that anyone else came in with him, he told me that they were all still outside according to his comms. Either Yukhei never left with them and they were just too frazzled to notice, or he went back without telling anyone. That’s extremely weird. If he thought that something was wrong, why sneak around like that?”

He doesn’t want to suspect his crewmate. He desperately, desperately wants it to remain a blameless tragedy.

“Do you know who made the transmission? Was it Yukhei, or someone else?”

Jeno shakes his head slowly, frowning. “I don’t know, everything was kept locked up since technically the investigation is still ongoing. It was definitely someone from the Chinese fleet, though. At least, that was the story last time I heard.”

Renjun feels well and truly sick. “I didn’t see anyone else in the whole ship. We had to go from the flight deck at the front through the whole ship to reach the escape pods in the back. Yukhei _must_ have made that transmission, because no one else was around. But...why would he put himself in such a dangerous situation? The oxygen was so low and the fumes were so thick and the explosion could have happened at _any_ moment, how did he think he was going to get out?”

Renjun hates this. He hates the ugly kernels of truth blossoming inside him, hates what they have to tell him. He doesn’t like that the evidence is stacking up against _anyone_ at all.

“Do you think the thing on his face was a mask? An oxygen mask?”

“I...I suppose that would make some sense, because I couldn’t breathe at all. I couldn’t even _think_ let alone have the lung capacity to radio in to the base.” Horror dawns on Renjun’s face. “If he had a mask on, then...he must have been alive when we found him, right?”

Did he leave Yukhei to die?

“Breathe, Jun. It’s not your fault. Honestly…” Jeno sighs, “Honestly, I think you and Doyoung threw a wrench in his plans-- _if_ this was all started by him. It was early in the morning, and you were supposed to stay asleep. He couldn’t have predicted that Doyoung would get injured and leave the mission early, or for him to wake you up for help. I don’t know if your voices were caught on the transmission, but if you walked in before his plan was complete, he probably played dead on purpose.”

Jeno gestures to the scrap of paper clenched in Renjun’s fist. “And based on that being found _here_ , I don’t think this was ever meant to be a suicide mission.”

Renjun’s heart plummets. “The escape pod...when we reached it, the hatch was open.”

Dread trickles into his stomach as bright lights and pounding headaches and screams of agony pulse through his memory.

“It was all prepared, like it was waiting for someone.”

Renjun jolts in Jeno’s hold, frantic gaze roaming every inch of the craft. It looks ghastly now, with its mockingly shiny silver walls and steel flooring. It feels like there are bones built into the panels and ghosts haunting the dark screens— hints of what once was buried beneath the floorboards, signals of long faded life that Renjun had never seen before.

“Oh my God, Jeno, we’re living a dead man’s getaway car.”

* * *

Jeno hooks his chin over Renjun’s shoulder, arms sliding around his waist. It tickles a little, and Renjun forces a weak smile to his lips at the boy’s antics. Anything Jeno does boosts Renjun’s mood, though nothing can truly distract him from the fact that they’re currently hunting for more incriminating evidence against Renjun’s former crewmate.

“How are you holding up?”

Renjun pauses in his shuffling before pulling another compartment open. He doesn’t know what to say.

 _Is_ he okay?

Surprisingly, there are far more little containers and hidden hatches built into the ship than Renjun would have expected on an ordinary shuttle. There are sections of the wall that appear smooth, but slide away when pressure is applied in just the right spots.

Most crafts utilize every inch of space in order to cram in all the machinery and supplies that a flight crew needs, but there are so many things that set off alarm bells in Renjun’s head. Not for the first time, he wishes that his original mission wasn’t so rushed. Maybe he would be able to approach this with more of a critical eye if he had _any_ idea how normal emergency pods functioned.

There’s a chance that it’s not strange for escape shuttles to have _so_ many sets of extra large clothing, right? Maybe it’s just a coincidence that the pod had always been missing a staple of their difficult space diet, thermostabilized cans of tuna, and that Yukhei was deathly allergic to fish. Perhaps it’s not damning after all that they found a hair that couldn’t match either of them on the flight deck, or that there’s no emergency gas mask on board.

“I don’t want it to be him,” Renjun mumbles, “Not that I want any of my crewmates to be traitors, but Yukhei...he was always so kind to me, and that hurts worse than anything. Searching for evidence against him just...feels like I’m betraying him, somehow.”

“You aren’t betraying anyone by digging for the truth, okay?” Jeno gently turns him around, hands once again coming to rest at his waist, “Nothing is definitive right now. We aren’t trying to convict anyone, we’re just gathering notable oddities. There’s a chance that the transmission was made by someone else, and Yukhei just went to this emergency shuttle a few times during your mission to make sure it was running properly. Maybe he was a thorough guy like that, I wouldn’t know.”

At this point, Renjun doesn’t know either.

There’s a strange guilt pulsing in his stomach at the idea of all these clues being right under his nose for a _year_ , and he never bothered to think twice. How blind was he from hopelessness that he didn’t even comb every inch of the tiny space he was trapped in? Useless, _useless_ \--

“Hey, I can see those gears in that head of yours working real hard. There’s no need for that right now. Why don’t we take a break, hm?” Jeno murmurs into Renjun’s ear. Emotionally drained, Renjun allows himself to be led back to the crew quarters.

“How are _you_ feeling? Anything new ailments to report?” Renjun tugs on Jeno’s arm and whirls him around. Carefully, he scans Jeno’s body for any sign of bruising or rashes.

Since they aren’t at a real hospital with medical grade equipment and proper repressurization chambers, there’s a huge chance that Jeno’s symptoms could flare up again. Renjun has been keeping an eye out for any noticeable neurological disruptions in Jeno’s thoughts, speech and movements, but they seem to be in the clear for the time being.

Jeno weighs his answer heavily. Nervousness floods Renjun’s body, face falling at the thought of Jeno keeping a health issue from him. Is he okay? Why is he taking so long to respond? Could that be a sign of a problem by itself? What if--

“If I say yes, will you kiss me again?”

Renjun’s jaw drops at the boy’s boldness. To be fair, Jeno has an equally bright flush of embarrassment scrawled across his face. He’s smiling with those pretty eyes, though, shifting so close that their noses could brush. Seconds pass, and he doesn’t laugh it away.

“Don’t joke,” Renjun aims for a flippant tone, but the words leave his mouth whiny and choked off. He doesn’t know if he’s referring to Jeno’s health or him teasing Renjun about a kiss he couldn’t _possibly_ want, right?

“Y-You don’t mean that. Last time doesn’t even count, you don’t need to stress about it. And you were so...cold, haha, I still can’t get that feeling to go away. I-I mean, you barely even kissed back-- the _nerve_ \-- why would I want...” The words coming out of Renjun’s flustered mouth make absolutely no sense, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He tries to brush it off by sticking out his tongue and laughing, but Jeno’s face doesn’t change.

He’s giving Jeno an out. So why is he moving closer?

This close, Renjun’s eyes nearly cross when he takes Jeno in. His inky hair has gotten far longer, though not nearly as long as Renjun’s own mop of hair. The loose strands drift into his face in the decreased gravity. His strong brows are slightly lowered, dark gaze locked onto Renjun’s lips.

“How about a redo, then?”

In the end, Renjun is the one to surge up and close the distance between them. Jeno catches him with one hand hugging his waist. The other travels up his back, playing with the wispy strands of hair on the nape of his neck that had fallen out of his little ponytail.

This time, Jeno is warm.

Their lips slot easily together. They move against each other languidly, like they have all the time in the world-- because they do. They do. The trillions of light years stretching out in every direction and the ticking clocks hold no power when Renjun is in Jeno’s arms.

Jeno and Renjun don’t fit together like puzzle pieces that were destined for each other. They weren’t born to interlock seamlessly. It’s not as easy as that.

Rather, Renjun can feel how their time together has eroded them into each other, slowly softening out their rigid edges. Their true selves underneath are not factory cut cardboard, but malleable putty. They adjust to each other, intertwining even better than the puzzle pieces, because they _aren’t_ perfect. Renjun can still feel pockets of empty space between them as well as sanded down planes where they would have clashed a month ago.

Like this, there’s so much more room to grow.

Renjun hadn’t noticed when his hands began to roam, ending up in an echo of more dire times with one hand to Jeno’s chest and the other cupping his cheek. With equal softness and tenderness as the kiss had contained, they break apart to come up for air.

Once more, Renjun’s thumb swipes gently over Jeno’s bitten lower lip. They both sport matching mussed up hair and red cheeks, lips swollen and eyes glossy.

“Much better,” Renjun breathes, entirely too honest, “It’s nice to kiss you when you’re not dying. Well. I mean. It’s nice that you’re not dying in general.”

Jeno laughs. He looks dazed, eyes exploring every inch of Renjun’s face.

“To answer your question,” Jeno trails one finger along Renjun’s jaw, “I’m feeling much better now, but my joints do hurt.”

Renjun blinks. “Um. Are you being serious, because that _is_ a potential long lasting effect, or--”

“Both,” says Jeno, a little more than breathless. He giggles with a massive, dopey grin lighting up his face, and he’s looking at Renjun like he hung the stars outside their window. “Well? Any remedies, doc?”

Renjun rolls his eyes as he leans in again, but he can’t deny the delighted fluttering in his chest. “I’m sure I can prescribe you something.”

* * *

Later, Renjun is pressing an ice pack to Jeno’s elbow. He shakes his head in fond disbelief, rotating the limb every so often. “You’re unbelievable. Why didn’t you tell me earlier that you were actually still feeling side effects?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeno waves him off. Every time Renjun moves the boy’s arm to reapply pressure at a different part of the joint, he cranes his neck so his eyes never have to leave Renjun’s face. “I don’t like worrying you. You have enough on your plate.”

“Oh, please. I’m going to worry whether you tell me things or not, so make my life a little easier, yeah? I don’t want to have to tickle it out of you.” Renjun wiggles his fingers menacingly.

“Oh, God! What have I done to deserve such cruelty!” Jeno throws himself back in mock fear. Renjun snorts, but the smile fades when Jeno hisses, the motion jostling his elbow.

Renjun continues his work with a determined frown, and the cabin settles into a comfortable silence. Once he’s satisfied with Jeno’s check-up, he immediately curls into the other boy’s side. Jeno absentmindedly twists little braids into Renjun’s long hair. Both of them find their gazes glued to the window.

“Do you think we’re close?” Renjun ventures. Half of his words are muffled into Jeno’s chest, and he prefers it that way. He’s almost afraid to touch the subject, to shatter their affectionate moments with the cold reality that their clock is ticking.

Renjun doesn’t know exactly what day it is, but he’s fairly certain that the one year anniversary of LYRA-1’s explosion is nearly upon them. The ship can’t support them for much longer.

Jeno untangles the braid from Renjun’s hair and starts again, nimble fingers working in a different pattern this time.

“There’s no way to tell until we’re there, love. My suit took quite a few hits so I don’t think the comms will work, but they should still be able to connect to the tracker once we get in range.”

 _If_ , Renjun wants to say, but he bites it back. He’s grown from those kinds of thoughts, shed the thick tar of hopelessness that clung to him like a second skin and moved on.

They _will_ get in range. AQUILA-3 _will_ be where they estimated, Jeno’s suit _will_ retain enough function to be picked up despite the signal barrier of the damaged craft, and they _will_ be rescued.

They _will_ make it home.

Jeno twists another strand of hair around his finger. Renjun traces characters and doodles and scenes across Jeno’s skin. They allow the hours to wash over them like that, indulging in their little routines and soothing motions.

After all, there’s nothing they can do but wait.

* * *

Light.

Renjun groans, rubbing at his eyes as he pushes himself up in the sleeping chamber. There’s a bright blue glow searing into his eyelids, rousing him from deep sleep. Cranky, he’s about to bury his face into Jeno’s shoulder and go back to sleep, but something makes him pause.

Light?

“Jeno, wake up,” Renjun breathes. He shakes Jeno’s shoulder more vigorously, pulse quickening. “Jeno!”

Jeno jolts upright, slamming his forehead into Renjun’s. Groggily, he rubs at the sore spot on his temple.

“We’ve got to stop doing that, Jun. We’re gonna give each other concussions,” Jeno chuckles, but the odd situation dawns on him quickly enough, “Wait, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Renjun can’t hold back his tears anymore. Jeno looks crestfallen as they spill onto his cheeks. He wiggles out of the sleeping bag to gather Renjun up in his arms. Renjun lays his head on his shoulder, sniffling pitifully.

“What happened, baby? Bad dream?”

Renjun shakes his head. He’s struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing, to form the words he so desperately wants to scream at the top of his lungs. Jeno’s hands rub up and down his back as he tells Renjun to take all the time he needs.

Eventually, Renjun musters up his strength to point one shaking finger to the inner airlock door.

“ _Home.”_

From the breast pocket of Jeno’s AQUILA-3 suit shines a brilliant blue light.

* * *

Neither of them can go back to sleep.

They sit with linked hands by the suit. Jeno’s free hand trails reverently over the glowing fabric. He had already tried to radio in, but the suit could no longer support incoming or outgoing communication. However, the emergency tracker was clearly still functioning.

“The light means that they’re trying to reach my suit. They keep pinging it so they don’t lose track of the signal. They’re coming for us, love, they know we’re here. They’re coming.”

Renjun cries into Jeno’s shoulder.

He doesn’t even know where to begin dissecting the emotions bubbling under his skin. There’s relief, of _course_ , but also staunch refusal because there’s no way this can be real, right? There’s no way that Renjun could have a happy ending, that he won’t die within these thin silver walls like he always assumed he would.

Renjun doesn’t know how to accept the idea of living anymore.

A life beyond the shuttle always seemed like a pretty little bedtime story that Jeno would lull him to sleep with, nothing more than empty words. He smiled and nodded along because it sounded wonderful, of _course_ it did, but there was always the little voice in the back of his head assuring him that he would never experience such vibrancy again.

He thought his fate had been sealed away with him the moment the explosion took everything from him. He’s terrified that it could all still slip between his fingers, that he could fumble these last hours and condemn both of them.

Wanting to live again isn’t always a straightforward path. Renjun thinks it would be mighty cruel to dangle the promise of rescue in front of him, just to yank it away when he finally reaches out to grasp it-- but he’s learned to expect pain and injustice.

He doesn’t want to drag Jeno down, not when he looks overjoyed at the thought of reuniting with his team.

Insecurity also whittles away at Renjun’s frail emotional state. He’s reluctant to admit it, but he’s terrified that Jeno only grew close because he _had_ to, because proximity is one of the biggest factors in attraction. He’s afraid that whatever spark between them that leads to Jeno brushing the tears from his face and Renjun trusting for once in his life will die as soon as Jeno isn’t forced to be around him anymore.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” Renjun thought that he had whispered the plea under his breath, but Jeno’s arms tighten protectively around him. He presses his lips to Renjun’s forehead.

“Never again.”

Far off in the distance, just a smudge against the darkness, a pale shape emerges.

Despite his best efforts, Renjun could never conceptualize rescue. Now that the fairytale is peeling off the page, he has no idea how to deal with it.

What does it look like? What comes next? Who will Renjun become outside these maddening prison walls?

He knows a thousand things must also be racing through Jeno’s mind, but Renjun couldn’t name a single one. Jeno’s free hand, the one that isn’t glued to Renjun, has the suit crumpled in his white knuckled grip. The woven fabric is dotted with dark spots.

Renjun wonders when Jeno had started crying.

With adrenaline tearing their heartbeats to shreds and their minds running wild, Renjun and Jeno can only cling to each other as they watch the massive craft materialize from the abyss.

AQUILA-3 is stunning.

That’s the only coherent thought Renjun’s brain can offer as the ship grows impossibly close.

Perhaps it’s just that he’s been trapped on a tiny emergency shuttle for what feels like his entire life, but the scale of the craft nearly knocks the breath out of him. When Jeno described how difficult it was to get their mission approved and all the policies they had to bend, Renjun had assumed that their base would only agree to launch a small, modest shuttle. He figured that they would want to literally fly under the radar so other countries wouldn’t suspect them of further tampering with space programs.

Clearly, times have changed.

AQUILA-3 dominates their whole window. The main body is sleek and long, with several nodes and branches attached to it. Shimmering solar panels decorate two long segments jutting out from the center of the craft. All of the thrusters are on full blast, charging towards them at top speed.

The ship moves fast, but space is impossibly large. It takes quite a while for AQUILA-3 to finally grow closer, and every time Renjun blinks he expects it to disappear as soon as he opens his eyes.

It never does.

Even when they can see it better, it’s impossible to see any activity within the tinted windows. Slowly, Jeno pulls Renjun to his feet. Renjun is attached to his side for both emotional and physical support, as he can already feel the edges of his vision growing blurry with his quickening breaths. Jeno smooths a hand over the back of his neck, whispering words that neither of them can hear.

There’s a ringing in Renjun’s ears, searing anticipation building up between his joints and around his ribcage. The suit falls from Jeno’s grip, drifting off to somewhere they don’t care to check. Neither of them can bear to take their eyes off the looming craft.

_They really came._

If the way Jeno’s nearly cutting off the circulation in Renjun’s hand is any indication, he also can’t fully trust that rescue is truly upon them until he sets foot in AQUILA-3’s territory.

Gradually, the craft angles to net them in its satellite port. Renjun is skeptical that they’ll fit, but he also feels like he can’t trust any of the sensory signals his body is sending to his brain.

The ship maneuvers into the best position to catch them, and dives down for a final swoop.

Suddenly, light blue is all they can see as AQUILA-3 encases them.

Mechanical arms, often used for steadying probes and satellites, press up against the shuttle to slow them down. The pod rattles as the front connects with the port ahead. With a groan, a massive shell emerges from the outer skeleton of the craft, swallowing the shuttle whole as it closes around them.

Renjun’s head snaps to Jeno. They’re both shaking, bathed in the harsh blue glow of Jeno’s tattered suit. With a watery grin on his face, Jeno’s trembling fingers brush the hair out of Renjun’s eyes. He presses a soft, comforting kiss to Renun’s lips.

Renjun understands all the words they can’t bring themselves to say.

_It’s okay, now. We’ve made it. It’s all okay. We don’t have to be afraid anymore._

_We’re safe._

Renjun is the one who reaches for the airlock door.

Everything sounds muted to his ears, a fuzziness to the edges of his own hands that gives everything a dreamlike quality. Every sensation processes just a second too late, his own brain lagging with the weight of what’s in front of his eyes.

If this is a dream, Renjun never wants to wake up.

The airlock finally stabilizes, adjusting to the pressure of the chamber of the craft that they’ve been secured into. Renjun and Jeno stagger through the small space together. Their hands lay on top of each other at the final hatch. Hearts in their throats, they nod wordlessly.

Mechanical whirrs and groans erupt from the door as it swings open, exposing Renjun and Jeno to the world at long last.

Five boys stand before them in various states of hysteria.

Jeno is violently trembling against Renjun’s side, but he smiles faintly. “ _Well_ , aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

The first sound Renjun registers is a _thwack_ as one of the boys’ fists collides with Jeno’s shoulder, knocking him off balance. Sniffling, the blue haired boy springs at Jeno, tackling him against the outside of the shuttle.

“You motherfucker!” he smacks Jeno’s arm between sobs, “What were you thinking? How-- How could you leave us like that? Do you have _any idea_ how fucking _worried_ we--”

“Jaemin, calm down.” Another boy steps forward. In his clean pressed button down and slacks, he looks the most collected out of all of them, minus the light tear tracks shimmering on his cheeks.

Renjun cowers back against the ship, fingers splayed out against the outer shell. Everything sounds too loud, bright colors and shapes twisting in and out of his vision. It’s all a blur, mixing hues and shouting voices and _shaky hands, blue fingertips_ and-- and-- where did Jeno go? Why can’t he feel him anymore? Did he leave? Was it all a lie?

“Who is that? Jeno, what the fuck did you do?”

Is Renjun alone?

Eyes squeezed shut and breath snagged somewhere between his lungs and his brain, Renjun stumbles to the side, desperately stretching out for Jeno. A hand lands on Renjun’s elbow to stabilize him, but it’s all _wrong_. It’s too large and imposing and it _burns_ because _that’s not Jeno._

“Hey, are you okay?”

Renjun yanks himself out of the unfamiliar grip with a yelp, knees nearly buckling with the effort. He can feel his pulse swirling around his fingertips, unable to hear anything beyond the blood roaring in his veins.

As always when he falls, Jeno catches him.

Renjun’s vision slowly clears. Jeno is all he can see, shielding him from the puzzled stares of the scary strangers.

“It’s okay now, Jun, we’re okay,” Jeno is murmuring to him in low tones, “You don’t need to be afraid anymore. We’re safe now.”

“Jeno?” One of the boys calls to them uncertainly, “What...What in the world is going on?”

“I need you all to trust me, okay?” Jeno calmly addresses the group behind him, but his eyes never leave Renjun’s face, “I know you’ll have a lot of questions, and you might not believe the answers. I understand, but...but trust that I trust him, and hear us out. Please.”

Jeno shifts to the right, and the five strangers come into Renjun’s line of sight from behind Jeno’s back. The blue haired one, Jaemin, looks utterly destroyed as he clings to a freckled boy’s arm. The lanky boy beside them wrings his hands nervously, eyebrows creased in worry. The rational one from earlier has his hand planted firmly on a dark haired boy’s shoulder, holding him back from charging towards them.

“Renjun,” Jeno smiles reassuringly through the tears leaking from his eyes. His thumb rubs soft circles into the back of Renjun’s hand.

“Meet my crew.”


	4. LOCK

Overwhelmed is an understatement.

Not even half of the information flung like bullets at Renjun’s head sticks. As he’s gently guided out of the port and into the main body of the ship, he can only focus on Jeno’s voice in his ear and ensuring that oxygen gets to his brain uninterrupted.

Passing out is a terrible first impression, as Renjun has learned.

The ship stretches impossibly far in all directions, making Renjun feel smaller and smaller the further they travel. Every so often, they pass a junction where the main body splits off into two narrower corridors at the sides.

Every wall is packed with tools, projects, screens, and machinery. It’s all lit up and blinding, springs creaking and alerts chiming. It’s probably not too different from the activity in LYRA-1’s glory days, but after a year of silence and dim lights and dark screens, these signs of life overload Renjun’s senses.

They drift through the crew quarters, lingering a few feet behind Jeno’s crew. The five talk amongst themselves, since Jeno had asked for a little space, but the tall, anxious boy keeps turning around to look at them guiltily.

This segment of the ship is square, with a sleeping pod built into each side. They hop over the chamber on the floor with lazy, floating steps. Renjun can only thank his lucky stars that the mechanisms regulating the decreased gravity haven’t changed since his shuttle was designed, or else he would really be thrown off-kilter.

Two more pods line the walls in the next chamber, while the ceiling and floor compartments seem to be occupied by storage. They continue on, past the two shower capsules.

“That’s where Donghyuck threw the spaghetti sauce,” Jeno whispers out of the corner of his mouth. It elicits a snort of laughter from the thick cloud of panic hanging over Renjun, and Jeno’s eyes curve up victoriously.

Ahead of them, the freckled boy turns with a scowl, “You told him about Spaghettigate? Ugh, _traitor._ ”

Jeno sticks out his tongue at the boy. Half of Renjun matches the face to the name and the story and files away the information normally, but the other half beats _traitor, traitor, traitor_ into his skull. The fragile smile falls from his face, and Donghyuck’s eyes soften. He doesn’t say anything, though, which Renjun is grateful for. He’s not sure he’s ready for anyone to acknowledge him just yet.

The group in front of them stops when the narrow tunnel opens up into a larger node. Jaemin tugs at a string on the floor, which pulls a collapsable little stool up from the thermal tiles. He hooks his foot into a loop at the base of the stool to anchor him to the ground. The rest of them take similar seats, but not before hugging Jeno one by one and scolding him for being so reckless.

Renjun fidgets in his seat, unsure what is expected of him at this point. His gaze flickers up to find the lanky boy already staring at him. Embarrassed, he drops his head again.

Despite being found, Renjun feels more lost than ever. He’s navigating completely new terrain, and he can’t help but stumble over the gnarled roots lashing out for his ankles.

“I’m really sorry!”

A voice bursts into Renjun’s ear, and he cringes away on instinct. That boy still has his eyes glued to him, chewing on his lip in distress. Up close, Renjun can see just how young he is despite the misleading deep voice and tall stature. There’s a youthful innocence shining in his eyes, and he looks to be on the brink of nervous tears.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that without asking. I wasn’t raised like that. I think I made you more spooked, which I really, really didn’t mean to do. Like. At all. The opposite, honestly. I’m really sorry. Can we start over?” The boy sticks his massive hand out.

Renjun tilts his head as he puts the pieces together. The hand that tried to steady him while he was freaking out must belong to this poor kid.

“Oh, no! Wait, I didn’t even introduce myself,” He retracts the offered hand and sucks in a deep breath. His eyes drift shut in the process like he’s counting in his head, and then he relaxes. Instead of reaching out to shake Renjun’s hand, he settles on a small, nonthreatening wave. “Hi, my name is Jisung! It’s nice to meet you.”

A slight smile lifts Renjun’s lips. The boy is cute, honestly, like an eager-to-please little brother. Gathering up his courage, he leans forward and grabs Jisung’s hand, pumping it in a quick greeting before withdrawing.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jisung. My name is Renjun.”

It’s not comfortable, not by a long shot. It will be a long time before Renjun is adjusted to the presence of more people. It feels almost pathetic to be so wary of a handshake in the first place, but the way Jeno beams at him when he sits back makes him feel like he’s won the lottery.

Jeno keeps a grounding grip on his elbow as the rest of the crew introduces themselves.

The dark haired boy is Chenle. Whisker-like dimples crinkle up his face when he smiles at Renjun. The Chinese name piques Renjun’s attention, but he doesn’t dare to speak yet.

Mark is next, though his nice shirt grows more crumpled by the second as Donghyuck latches on to him. Donghyuck throws him a wave and, oddly, a wink. Jaemin still looks shaken but offers him a slow nod of acknowledgement.

Renjun isn’t sure why he hasn’t yet faced a barrage of questions or why these strangers are accepting him so easily into their vessel. It’s probably the pleading looks Jeno keeps sending them when he thinks Renjun doesn’t notice.

No one knows exactly how to address the elephant in the room once the pleasantries die down. In the end, it’s Jeno who offers up their story.

Renjun’s gaze burns holes into the floor as Jeno talks. The boy briefly explains why he went after Renjun’s shuttle and how they eventually put themselves back in AQUILA-3’s flight path. Renjun suspects that he glosses over most of their time in the shuttle because it’s not his sob story to tell.

Donghyuck looks heartbroken as he reaches for Jeno’s hand, but he masks it with an eye roll. “I’m sorry we didn’t believe you about the ship, Nono. You’re still a fucking reckless idiot for taking off on your own, though.”

“I know, I know,” Jeno scratches sheepishly at his ear, “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You better have,” Renjun huffs. The response is so automatic that he barely registers it, so everyone’s heads swiveling to him catches him off guard.

Silence stretches through the chamber again. Renjun knows that they’re itching to know what’s going on. They deserve an explanation, he just doesn’t know where to start. He clasps his hands in his lap and sits up straight, but the words don’t flow.

“How old are you, Renjun?”

The lifeline comes from Mark, and Renjun ducks his head gratefully. This, he knows.

“Approximately twenty-two.”

His sentences string together much easier with the dam broken. Renjun doesn’t look up the whole time he’s talking, afraid of seeing fear, disgust, or anger reflected back at him.

He falls into the familiar groove, telling them his full name, position, and what mission he came from. He hears them suck in sharp breaths at the last detail, probably turning to Jeno in shock, but he prattles on regardless.

Inertia. If he stops now, he’ll never continue.

“Jeno’s brother saved me from the explosion, but the emergency pod was damaged and I couldn’t contact anyone for help. I lived in isolation for almost a year before Jeno found me. I had no idea what was happening on Earth after the explosion…” Renjun flinches at his own words, but he knows he has to get everything out in the open as soon as possible.

He’s undoubtedly going to bring trouble to the crew, assuming they do bring him back to Earth. It’s only fair that they’re aware that this seemingly straightforward act of kindness could blow up in their face if he drags them into the crossfires of war.

“We have reason to suspect that the claims of sabotage are true, but that they came from the Chinese fleet. We aren’t certain, but that’s...that’s what we’re trying to figure out right now. That, and how to get home in one piece.” Renjun can nearly taste blood from how hard he’s biting his lip.

“I know I’m the only survivor. I _know_ it looks bad. You don’t have to trust me now, b-but if you give me a chance, I’ll show you everything we have. Anything you want to ask, I’ll do my best to answer. I don’t want trouble, I just...I just want to go home.”

Renjun can’t stop his voice from cracking on the last sentence. He hopes they don’t mistake his fear for guilt, his trauma for damnation.

Donghyuck sits back with a low whistle and a “ _Damn_.” There’s still a calculating edge to his gaze as he scans over Renjun, but his expression is warm.

“If all that is true...you’ve been through a lot, huh?” Chenle frowns. Renjun can’t stand the pitying look, and averts his eyes.

Jaemin doesn’t say a word, deep in thought. He seems nice enough, but Renjun isn’t sure where they stand. Based on his reunion with Jeno and all the stories Renjun heard, the pair are very close. He hopes Jaemin doesn’t resent him for putting Jeno in danger.

God knows he can hate himself enough for the two of them.

“Well, I believe you,” Jisung says like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “Don’t worry, you’re with us now. We’ll figure it out together.”

It’s such a sweet and hopeful sentiment that the tension drains out of Renjun’s slumping shoulders. With all seven of them, together, he’s sure they could do it. The thought warms his chest.

Mark untangles his foot from the stool strap and hops up, brushing himself off. He seems to be the captain, clapping his hands for their attention.

“Okay, let’s all cool down for a bit before we tackle what to do next. Jeno, it’s good to have you back, man.” Mark knocks his shoulder against Jeno, who immediately tugs him into a bear hug. Mark splutters for a second before awkwardly patting Jeno’s back, gulping in air when he’s released. He turns to Renjun with a smile.

“And Renjun, welcome aboard.”

* * *

Renjun feels like he’s back at square one.

He winces when too many people talk at once, which is almost always, because Jeno’s crew are quite rambunctious individuals. With their lost teammate back, they seem to be itching to make up for lost time.

Renjun doesn’t know where he fits in all this.

They’re all kind to him, at least to his face, but Renjun can feel the barrier between them. They don’t know him, he doesn’t know them, and both sides seem to be afraid to bridge that gap. He can’t help but think that it’s better if he stays distant so he doesn’t drag them down.

Shortly after the initial crew meeting, Renjun is allowed a little breathing room to explore the ship. He assumes someone has eyes on him at all times, but it’s just enough of an illusion of freedom for him to feel comfortable wandering around the passageways.

He accidentally comes within earshot of Jaemin and Jeno, huddled in a thin hallway shooting off from the middle crew cabin.

They’re both angled away from Renjun, but he can see that Jaemin has his arms crossed loosely-- not angry, but uncertain. He’s slumped against the wall, fingers tapping at his elbow.

“Jeno, you understand how serious this is, right? You have to know where I’m coming from here. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, I _really_ do, but how can you just take his word like that? He’s the only one who can back up that story-- realistically, he could’ve fed you any narrative he wanted.”

Jeno sighs deeply, and Renjun’s heart twists.

“You weren’t there, Jaemin. You didn’t see the fear in his eyes as all the memories fell into place, or how goddamn _devastated_ he was when he found out about what a wreck Earth has become after the explosion. None of us ever believed the accusations against the Korean branch of astronauts in the first place, so why start now? I know it’s not an ideal situation, and we’re _definitely_ going to need more concrete proof for the courts, but just give him a chance.”

Jeno swallows down the desperation creeping into his tone, “Please. He’s the kindest, strongest person I’ve ever met. I know his heart, and it shines like gold. You want to be careful, and that’s fine, but please don’t condemn him before he even has the opportunity to show you who he is.”

“I know that, I just--” Jaemin pauses. The suspicion sharpening his voice drains, and instead his words are thick with acceptance, “I just want to be sure we’re making the right decisions. You really trust him, huh?”

Jeno’s fingers trail over his neck, resting on his chest right where Renjun knows his necklace lays buried under the layers of clothing. “With my life. I have before, and I’d do it again.”

Jaemin hums. He drops his arms and gathers Jeno into a hug, clapping him on the back.

“If you say so.”

Renjun slips away before either of them notice. He presses both palms to his chest to feel his heartbeat pounding steady, breathes in, and then keeps moving forward.

It’s difficult to adapt to the bustling environment of AQUILA-3. The ship is quickly redirected to its original path so their mission center on the ground isn’t yet alerted of their little...side quest. There are still legitimate repairs to be made, so the crew forges on with their regular plans while they discuss what steps to take next.

Everyone agreed not to radio down about Renjun just yet due to the political chaos his mere existence would incite. It’s better to not let the politicians have time to fabricate new lies to cover their asses before Renjun can tell his story to the world.

The choice makes perfect sense. Renjun knew his entire life had turned into a controversy as soon as he learned the truth about LYRA-1.

And yet, the ugly darkness slithering through Renjun’s veins sings a different tune. The feeling of not belonging crawls across his skin, like he doesn’t deserve the air he’s breathing or the space he’s taking up.

He thought he had come to terms with survivor’s guilt, but the feeling that he shouldn’t be alive haunts him stronger than ever when faced with the cold consequences of his survival.

He’s hesitant to go to Jeno for comfort. It’s not because he doesn’t trust him or he’s afraid that being back on AQUILA-3 has put whatever formed between them in jeopardy.

No, Jeno has been just as wonderful and thoughtful as he was when it was just the two of them against the universe. He always reaches out for Renjun, checks in on him periodically, and keeps him close. He doodles absentminded patterns over Renjun’s knee when the group is all gathered in one room and looks at Renjun first when he makes a joke, just to see him smile. Renjun knows Jeno would drop absolutely anything to chase off his pain and kiss away his fear, but he can’t ask that of him right now.

Renjun is fully aware that he needs to be able to separate from Jeno. It’s understandable that it will take time for him to relax in the presence of five strangers in an intimidating new environment after all he’s been through, but that’s not an excuse to engage in unhealthy behavior.

As much as it hurts, they have to take time away from each other. Jeno needs to reconnect with his crewmates-- Renjun of all people knows how much they mean to him. He wants Jeno to be able to spend time with them without worrying about Renjun or feeling like he’s neglecting him.

It’s hard not to crawl into Jeno’s arms and stay there forever. He knows that Jeno would let him without a second thought, but things have changed.

They aren’t the sole passengers on this bizarre adventure anymore, and that’s okay.

Change can be good, even healthy. It’s a scary word, but it’s what brought them to AQUILA-3, and what will hopefully bring them home.

It never gets any easier, though.

Renjun flinches for the third time in the last twenty minutes when Chenle squawks in disbelief over something Donghyuck is saying. The boy bangs his fist against his leg with laughter. “What do you _mean_ you’ve been moving all the items in Mark’s sleeping pod an inch to the left every night for months?”

Jeno’s gaze cuts to him nervously, searching for any signs of distress. Renjun musters up a weak smile and a thumbs up, and Jeno dives back into the conversation. He sighs once Jeno’s attention is diverted from him.

“He hasn’t noticed at _all_?!”

He can’t help but study Jeno’s breathtaking side profile, the way his nose scrunches as he laughs along to the story. His eyes light up when he throws in a few comments, and Renjun pulls his gaze away to study his own hands resolutely.

“Not even a little! He’s made, like four full rotations now without saying a word about it. Poor guy really has no spatial awareness.”

What is with all this _yearning_? He’s not jealous, that’s for sure. He trusts Jeno and whatever unspoken connection they have. It’s nice getting to see new sides of the boy in this vastly different environment, but an odd longing sticks in his chest as he watches them joke around.

“They’re loud, huh?”

The sudden voice comes from behind him, making him jump. Renjun whirls around to see Jaemin standing with his hands up in surrender, a small frown on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Renjun waves it off. “No, you’re fine. I’m sorry, I’m just a little on edge.”

Donghyuck starts trying to talk over Chenle, who is vehemently arguing whatever nonsense topic is at hand. If Renjun wasn’t about to lose his mind, he would find the sight endearing.

Jaemin studies him for a second before jerking his chin towards the corridor behind them. When he slips away, Renjun assumes he’s meant to follow.

It’s only been about a day and a half since Renjun and Jeno entered the ship, but Renjun has already noticed the two very different sides to Jaemin. He’s quite difficult to pin down in Renjun’s mind, and not being able to read him well makes Renjun nervous since he’s unsure how to act around the boy. Sometimes Jaemin enthusiastically joins in on the goofy commotion, but other times he looks utterly drained, sitting back from the conversation.

They’re mostly quiet as Jaemin leads Renjun across the craft, and Renjun savors the peace. It’s nice to be at the heart of the action so he can let exposure therapy work its magic, but he hasn’t had much silence to allow himself to recover.

Jaemin hooks a sharp right into one of the narrower wings. They push themselves to the end, where a blanket is tacked down to all four sides of the hallway. Jaemin unlatches one corner, peeling back the makeshift screen.

There’s almost no useful equipment at the end of this segment of the ship. Storage slots of lesser importance are dotted along the area, but there’s otherwise no reason for anyone to come down this far. The space is decorated with a few more blankets, and what looks to be hand drawn doodles are stuck to the walls.

“My sleeping chamber usually gets disturbed because it’s so close to the center of the ship where all the madness happens, so this is where I come to recharge,” Jaemin explains. He draws the blanket away further, “You can come in, if you want.”

Renjun accepts the offer, springing into the quiet area with light steps. He curls up in the corner and brings his knees to his chest, sighing happily. Jaemin laughs at the behavior.

Jaemin sits closer to the blanket-door contraption, and they stew in the silence for a little bit. It might be strange, but Renjun didn’t realize how much he needed an enclosed space to feel safe. He’ll work up to feeling comfortable in the massive craft beyond the blanket, but right now it’s just too much at once.

Renjun slowly relaxes, stress bleeding out of him that he wasn’t aware he had been collecting. He flashes Jaemin a grateful smile. “Thank you for showing me this, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shrugs it off. “Figured you might need a buffer. I know I do, and I’ve known those chuckleheads for many years. Too many, if you ask me,” he huffs, making Renjun laugh, “We can also work this into a sleeping area for you if you want, because we only have six pods.”

A genuine grin worms it’s way to Renjun’s lips. He’s incredibly touched that Jaemin reached out to him, especially since he was certain Jaemin only barely tolerated him. Even if Jeno convinced him that Renjun wasn’t a traitor, Jaemin didn’t _need_ to go out of his way like this. It’s thoughtful of him to offer his own safe space to Renjun, who is already certain he’ll be holing up in the cozy corner often as he works through these growing pains.

The comment about the sleeping pod strikes him, though. The chaos of the last few days has felt like years. They’ve barely stopped to sleep in the rush, so Renjun hadn’t even thought about living arrangements.

It feels like every other second he forgets that this isn’t some crazy fever dream, that rescue has actually found him. He’s half expecting to wake up in his tiny shuttle any moment, traces of a pleasant dream fading from memory. Setting up a living space feels like securing a future away from his old pod, and it feels just as terrifying as it does liberating.

Renjun isn’t sure what’s showing on his face, because Jaemin barks out a short laugh, “Oh, my bad, were you and Jeno planning on sharing a sleeping pod? Wait, I really don’t need to know the answer to that. The offer still stands though, feel free to come here whenever you need a break.”

Renjun splutters, ears burning bright red. “What? We-- _hey!_ Stop laughing!”

Jaemin muffles the rest of his amusement into his palm. “Sorry, sorry, but you guys _do_ know you’re super obvious, right? Like I know I’m observant to begin with, but damn, I could probably spot your pining from Earth.”

“No comment,” Renjun sulks, arms crossed as he pointedly looks to the side. Jaemin snickers, but he lets the topic go. He muses to himself for a few minutes as Renjun closes his eyes, tipping his head back to meet the wall.

“Must be weird, huh? Going from being with him every second of the day to...this.” Jaemin gestures vaguely.

Renjun hums. Idly, he rubs a finger up and down one of the blankets, “It’s...an adjustment. All of this is. I’m trying not to be too clingy about it, because that won’t help anyone. I just haven’t been around people in a long time, besides Jeno, so I’m a little awkward on my own.”

“You don’t have to think so hard about it. Jeno is a smart boy, he can handle himself, and I bet he could help you settle in better if you just ask. He also doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries-- he’s a gentleman like that. You just don’t see the sappy, sad-eyed looks he throws your way when you’re apart. He’s probably having the same separation stress.”

“Really?” Renjun straightens up. He hadn’t noticed. He assumed that Jeno was doing all that for Renjun’s sake, not that he was equally as reluctant to let go even though he’s no stranger to this ship.

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic how pouty he gets,” Jaemin laughs, “Also, I know it might take you a while to get comfortable with the rest of us, but we do want to make you feel welcome. I know I didn’t give you the warmest welcome, and I’m sorry for that. Just know that you can talk to us anytime. We’re all harmless, promise,” Jaemin frowns suddenly, eyebrows pulling down in thought, “Well, maybe not Donghyuck. I’m pretty sure he has bitten people before, but we still love him.”

“Noted,” Renjun grins. He already feels more at ease. “Thank you, really.”

Jaemin opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a stressed voice calling Renjun’s name. The sound bounces around the tinny walls of the corridor, and Renjun nearly trips over himself to push the blanket aside.

“Jen?”

Jeno barrels down the small wing as fast as decreased gravity allows. He doesn’t stop once he reaches them, throwing his arms around Renjun to sweep him up.

“I was looking for you!” Jeno squeezes him, fingers drifting up to play with the stubby ponytail at the base of Renjun’s neck, “You had me worried, love.”

Renjun smiles softly at the pet name, rubbing Jeno’s back.

Jaemin’s words ring in his head as Renjun registers the slight tremor in Jeno’s fingers. Maybe Renjun isn’t the only one having a difficult time. Growing pains aren’t exclusive to him, after all, and there’s nothing wrong with taking comfort in each other as they heal.

“Oh wow, Jaemin showed you his introvert cave!” Jeno finally seems to realize where they are, loosening his grip. Jaemin’s head pops out from behind the blanket-door, scowling playfully.

“You’re disturbing the peace and quiet that Renjun and I were enjoying,” he says, sticking out his tongue, “Shoo!”

“Hey, don’t get any funny ideas,” Jeno glares daggers at his best friend, who laughs as he puts his hands up. With Renjun still ensnared in his arms, Jeno points two fingers at his narrowed eyes before swiveling them threateningly at Jaemin in the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

“Get your own Renjun! This one’s mine.”

Renjun chokes on his spit, looking incredulously at the sulky boy wrapped around him. Jaemin is laughing his head off inside his little hidey hole. Renjun manages a quick goodbye in his flustered state as Jeno pulls him away.

“Are you _pouting?_ ”

“Maybe...” The pout deepens as Jeno whines, “I missed you, you know.”

 _Cute,_ Renjun thinks. Jeno’s face lights up, and Renjun can practically see the satisfied puppy tail wagging behind him.

“What? Did I say that out loud?”

“You sure did,” says Jeno, “But that’s okay, because I think you’re cute too. Now if you’re feeling up to it, I heard Chenle was really excited to have someone to speak Mandarin with. But if he starts trying to scheme you into joining the quirky prank war he has going on with Jisung, you can just pinch my arm. We have our ways of shutting him up.”

Renjun smiles so hard his cheeks hurt before saluting Jeno seriously. “Will do, but I can’t promise I’ll stay a neutral party forever. If he comes after either of us, it’s _on._ ”

“That’s the spirit!”

Jeno’s hand slips into his, and then they’re off again.

* * *

Renjun and Jeno _do_ end up in the same sleeping pod, much to Donghyuck’s amusement.

Mark shoves a hand over the shit-eating grin on Donghyuck’s face, but he still manages to waggle his eyebrows at the pair as they all turn in for the night.

“Sweet dreams, lovebirds!” he chirps, clapping Jeno on the shoulder with just a little too much enthusiasm.

Renjun is grateful for the set up for more than one reason. Of course he’s ecstatic to snuggle close to Jeno after such an emotionally taxing day because it’s _Jeno_ , but he also doesn’t know what he’d do if he woke up from a nightmare all alone, strapped into an isolated chamber in the pitch black.

He wakes up several times throughout the night, head pillowed on Jeno’s chest. It’s as if his body startles him from sleep every time he lets his guard drop, like it won’t believe that they’re out of danger yet.

In these fragile moments, Renjun presses his ear to Jeno’s heart and allows the rhythm of his pulse to lull him back to sleep.

Morning comes almost too quickly.

Everyone bickers during breakfast, which Renjun is starting to think may be the crew’s default state. At least it’s amusing to see Jisung sneakily squirt liquid salt into Chenle’s hot chocolate, because apparently Chenle hates coffee and Jisung doesn’t know that he’s actually stumbled upon quite a popular drink recipe. Chenle compliments the taste very genuinely. Jisung looks more and more distressed with every passing moment as he struggles to decide whether to take credit for the failed prank or not.

In the end, they share the drink.

The silly atmosphere is broken when Mark turns to him, a solemn look wrinkling his forehead. “Renjun I think it’s time to examine your shuttle. The quickest way to get you home would be to just abandon it and fly back right now, but if you’re going to go public with your story…”

“You’re going to need every last bit of credibility you can salvage,” Donghyuck pipes up to finish Mark’s sentence. Unlike the previous interactions Renjun has had with the boy, Donghyuck is very serious, tone barren of any sarcasm or lightness. Renjun suspects that when it comes down to it, Donghyuck makes many of the decisions on the ship.

Renjun nods weakly. He doesn’t particularly want to revisit his tiny prison cell. And yet, the cowardly side of him wants to run and hide away in there and pretend like his life isn’t rocketing forward faster than he can process.

Jeno quietly slides Renjun a package of freeze dried strawberries. Renjun grips it just a little too hard when he sees his distorted face reflected back in the silver foil, but Jeno’s fingertips trail over his knuckles and he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“Doesn’t count! It wasn’t a prank, Lele, I just-- I just thought it would be a fun combination to try. This doesn’t mean you’re beating me!”

* * *

Donghyuck and Jisung circle the shuttle with a critical eye while Mark leans against the entrance to the port, arms crossed in thought. Jeno lingers just outside the entrance, working with Chenle on a small screen. He always keeps Renjun in view.

Renjun drifts up and down the side of the craft, fingertips grazing over the rough metal. He’s no engineer so he doesn’t have much to add to the conversation, but he’s glad that they want to include him in any decisions regarding his journey.

“There’s no way to secure the craft within our port, and AQUILA-3 isn’t built to accommodate this much extra mass upon reentry. We’re going to need to fix this thing up and have someone fly it back.” Donghyuck crawls into the shuttle to prod at the electrical systems.

Clinging to the metal rungs high up on the wall so that he doesn’t accidentally collide with the craft, Jisung scratches down notes about the wings and outer shell. He pushes his comically large wire framed glasses up his nose. “The main rudder is all torn up, which is a big problem for landing. The delta wing and most of the boosters look a little banged up, but function.”

Mark clicks his tongue, a calculating twinkle in his eyes. “We can work with that. We might need to stage a splashdown ocean landing if the rudder is fucked, but I think the other issues can be fixed. Hyuck, how’s the inside?”

Donghyuck climbs out of the pod with a grim look on his face. Renjun catches a glimpse of the flight deck inside as Donghyuck seals up the hatch behind him, and it sends shivers down his spine.

“There’s some _whack_ wiring work going on back there,” he jabs his thumb towards the shuttle, and Renjun laughs so that he doesn’t burst into tears. He has half a mind to tattle on Jeno about his reckless maneuvers just to see his crew scold him, but he bites his tongue because he’d rather not relive any of that ever again.

Donghyuck lists off some oddities about the flight control systems and other engineering jargon that flies over Renjun’s head. He looks troubled, throwing inquisitive glances towards the ship every so often.

“It’s just weird, almost like everything about this pod was built to be confusing. I thought I knew my way around a circuit board, but…” Donghyuck whistles, “Damn. Whoever manufactured this definitely tailored it to a specific mission, because none of the systems are accessible or calibrated like how they would be on a normal ship.”

“Like they didn’t want outsiders to understand it?” Mark prompts, and Donghyuck shrugs.

“It could have just been made sloppily, I guess. I know the mission was really rushed. We’ll have to compare it with models at home and see if it’s similar to some prototypes I’ve just never worked with.”

Renjun frowns. He knew the pod would hold important evidence, but he didn’t expect the structure as a whole to be a piece of the puzzle. He doesn’t know which government produced what equipment; he can only hope there are preserved manufacturing records on Earth that they can investigate.

“I can help,” Renjun volunteers, perking up at the thought of being useful, “I know that ship like the back of my hand, even if I never understood how it all worked. I can point you in the right direction of stuff.”

Mark shoots him a thumbs up, “Sounds perfect, Renjun. We’d love an extra pair of hands to pitch in.”

Donghyuck nods along. When Mark turns back to Jisung to discuss potential solutions to the damages on the outer casing, Donghyuck casts an empathetic look Renjun’s way.

“You-- You were really in there for a whole _year_? I heard your story and everything, but just seeing up close how cramped and dark it is in there...I can’t imagine living like that, even for a week.”

Renjun tenses where he’s fiddling with a bolt on the airlock door. Donghyuck doesn’t mean it in a patronizing way-- there’s an edge of awe to his tone, as if admiring Renjun’s strength at the same time as he mourns for his situation.

Renjun doesn’t know where the sudden surge of honesty comes from, but his response is raw and real as he croaks out, “It felt like more than a year. I thought I’d die there.”

Donghyuck’s shoulders slump at the words. He plays with his fingers, uncertain gaze flickering back to Renjun’s face. “Can I hug you?”

Caught off guard, Renjun freezes. He’s still a little wary of human contact besides Jeno, but he’s been growing more comfortable around the rest of the crew the more time he spends with them. It feels important to take this step, and so Renjun initiates it, slinging his arm around Donghyuck for a quick squeeze.

He’s observed Donghyuck to be quite physically affectionate with the rest of the crew, and the boy seemed to be in particularly low spirits after being inside the pathetic little emergency pod. Donghyuck relaxes into the hug immediately, but steps back as soon as he senses Renjun tense.

“Well you didn’t die there. You’re with us now, and we’re going to return you to Earth so you can get all old and gross and wrinkly with Jeno or some shit,” Donghyuck says, grinning mischievously. He looks significantly brighter than before. Throwing Renjun a quick wave, he pushes off to convene with Mark and Jisung about the repairs.

When Renjun turns, Jeno is leaning against the wall of the chamber, having wandered into the port at some point. He has a massive, soft smile on his face.

Renjun folds his arms. “What is it?”

Jeno comes closer and kisses the tip of Renjun’s nose. “I’m just proud of you, s’all.”

Renjun pulls him into a proper kiss, ignoring the suggestive whistles made by Donghyuck in the background.

* * *

They decide not to request a delivery of spare parts from the ground. Even if it would be far easier than trying to use a mixture of 3D printing and pure luck to piece Renjun’s shuttle back together, they still don’t want to alert the base of their situation until they absolutely have to.

Thus, the crew has to work in the repairs around their scheduled missions. Renjun feels guilty about the increased workload, but he helps out wherever he can.

It’s also painfully clear that few of the boys have any sense of self preservation or medical knowledge. Renjun encounters Mark trying to combat sinus irritation, which is caused by the upward movement of fluid in the body due to decreased gravity, with a goddamn _ice pack_ , and Jaemin is insistent that mixing six tubes of coffee together every morning is a great cure for his insomnia.

Renjun sighs, wrapping a compression bandage around a strained muscle in Chenle’s calf. Renjun had found him pasting bandaids over his shin as if that would fix anything. It feels good to be a positive presence on the ship, though, and he’s teamed up with Jaemin to nag everyone into getting the proper nutrients in their meals.

Renjun gazes down at his hands. Those smudged months where he barely ate and didn’t bother to take care of himself because he saw no point in prolonging his slow death feel so far away, yet loom over his shoulder at every turn. Sometimes when he blinks, visions of his skeleton, decayed and rotting as it drifts across space in his tiny shuttle, are still pressed to the insides of his eyelids.

But then Chenle eagerly beckons him over to help pull apart the outer panels of the ship for repairs, and all of that melts into the background.

Renjun will deal with those shadows looming in the corners, just not right now.

They’re making progress on designing pieces to fill the torn parts of the rudder, but there’s still a ways to go before they can start trying to bring it to life. There’s also work to be done in strengthening the rest of the pod to ensure that it won’t burn up in reentry.

High risk, high reward.

As slow as it is, it feels incredible to make any progress at all on Renjun’s trip home. Even though he often doesn’t know what he’s looking at, being involved in the process gives him a sense of control over the ship. It doesn’t own him anymore-- instead of a prison, it’s his ticket home, the key to clearing the names of his teammates.

Renjun’s smile sours at the reminder. He desperately wants to return to Earth, but he doesn’t think he can ever fully prepare for the mess he’ll stumble into if he ever makes it there.

 _If_. That goddamn word is back again.

“ _Sooo,”_ Chenle drawls as he prods at some exposed parts of the ship. He putters around, alternating between rooting around in the pod’s guts and typing into a computer mounted on the port wall. “You and Jeno, huh?”

Renjun is immediately catapulted out of his depressing dwellings. When he takes a closer look at Chenle, he notices how the boy has his eyebrows raised like he knows something Renjun doesn’t, mischief twinkling in his eyes even as he tries to look innocent.

“What are you talking about?” Renjun furiously forces a blush away from his cheeks. Chenle hands him a wrench with a disarming smile, but doesn’t give Renjun any instructions.

“Oh, _you know_ , you two and your--” Chenle erupts into the most embarrassing, wet sounding kissy noises he can possibly drum up. Renjun glances at the wrench in his grip again and counts to ten.

“So what if we are!” Renjun crosses his arms defensively. The syllables feel a little rounder on his tongue, and he wonders when they slipped into Mandarin.

It’s comforting.

“Oh no judgement here, but you should really know that Jeno is _definitely_ a ‘whatever works!’ kind of guy. Like, you’ll probably have to be the one to choose the restaurant and where to go for dates and stuff because even though he’s a total romantic, he’d rather just sit back and do that dumb smile of his and let you decide. So, take the reins! Carp the die-em, or whatever.” Chenle’s fingers fly over the keyboard as he chatters, but Renjun’s brain takes several minutes to catch up.

“Wait, dates? You think Jeno will actually want to stay with me once we’re not forced to be together in the same ship?”

Chenle’s fingers pause. “What? You don’t?” He blinks, turning to give Renjun his full attention when Renjun fails to respond. “Renjun, I have literally never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you. You better be serious about him, because he is _way_ serious about you.”

“I am! I am, I promise. I really l...like him, I just-- I never expected…with all the trouble that follows me...” Renjun trails off, unable to put words to his insecurities.

Guilt looms over him for subconsciously doubting Jeno. He was always so afraid that they were only a product of their circumstances, no matter how many times Jeno pledged to be by his side.

Renjun should return the favor.

“You need to have more faith in yourself! And in him, jeez!”

Chenle pokes him in the cheek, then chases Renjun down to poke the other one. Renjun scowls at the grime and oil smudged across his skin, scrubbing it off with the back of his hand as Chenle cackles.

“Jeno was right, you _are_ trouble.”

Chenle’s smile only widens with pride, and Renjun feels the barest hint of genuine fear creep into him. “What else has Jeno said about me? Did he give you a fair warning about my karaoke competitions? Because I have to say, I can and have shattered glass before, and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

Renjun pretends to crack his neck, “Let’s see you try.”

* * *

Later, Renjun tucks himself away in Jaemin’s introvert cave.

The cozy space allows him to wrangle his thoughts up and sift through them one by one. With his knees hugged into his chest, Renjun allows the dam in his mind to break, feelings washing over him like a tsunami.

He just hopes he won’t drown.

Jeno finds him eventually. He rustles the blanket-door a bit in lieu of knocking, and Renjun releases a half formed groan that he hopes Jeno can interpret as permission to enter.

“Hi, love,” Jeno says as he peels back the blanket and wriggles into the small space. Renjun’s heart comes aglow with just those two words. He weakly spreads his arms, and Jeno eagerly slots himself into Renjun’s side.

“I brought you a present,” Jeno whispers, fingers tickling lightly at Renjun’s waist. Renjun quirks a brow, and Jeno proudly digs two red rubber bands out of his pocket, “Ta-da! I found these for your rubber band ball! It can be un-abandoned now, because there will be plenty of rubber bands to play with as soon as we’re home. This is just a start— a promise, if you will.”

Emotion pours over Renjun as his eyes slowly shift from Jeno’s open, eager expression to the bands resting in his palm. Gently, he plucks them up and slips them around his wrist, rubbing reverently at the slightly aged rubber.

“Jeno,” Renjun announces as calmly as possible, “I am going to cry.”

Jeno’s face falls. “Did I say something wrong? I’m so--”

The sentence is barely out of his mouth before Renjun buries his head in Jeno’s shoulder, arms squeezing him tightly.

True to his word, Renjun can feel tears welling up in his eyes. There’s just something so innocent and thoughtful about the gesture. Jeno went out of his way to find something that would make Renjun happy, remembering even the smallest detail of Renjun’s life.

It’s almost overwhelming, to be loved so consciously.

“I love you, Jeno.”

Renjun’s words are raw and tender at the edges, pulling from the most honest parts of him because he _does._ He _loves_ Jeno.

He loves the feeling of Jeno in his arms, the affection of the fingers trailing around his wrists and the lips pressed to his forehead. He loves the enthusiasm sparkling in Jeno’s pretty eyes when he thinks of a new joke or a puzzle for Renjun to solve. He loves the tenderness with which Jeno handles his toughest moments, the grace with which he reassures Renjun that he is more than a consequence of a tragedy. He loves Jeno’s loyalty, his dedication, the strength of his character as well as his heart.

 _He loves Jeno,_ and it’s high time he stops shying away from it.

It doesn’t matter if Jeno says it back or not, because Renjun already knows Jeno cares about him. He’d be a fool to deny it after all they’ve been through-- after all Jeno has shown him.

Jeno muffles a happy rumble into Renjun’s tangled hair and hugs him closer. With their bodies pressed together, Renjun can acutely feel how Jeno’s heartbeat speeds up. Renjun is certain that his tears are soaking through Jeno’s thin shirt, but every time he tries to pull away Jeno reels him right back in.

“Oh, baby. I love you too.”

He doesn’t have to say it. But he _does_ , and the words glow in the air around them. Renjun wants to snatch them up and press them between the pages of a scrapbook and keep them alive forever and ever. It’s okay if the words fade away, though, because Jeno will always be there to say them again.

Jeno will stay, and so will Renjun.

“You’re still crying, love,” Jeno says, concern twisting down the side of his mouth as he smooths a hand over Renjun’s shaking shoulders. “I thought they were happy tears, but now I’m getting worried. Are you okay?”

“I’m--” Renjun’s words choke off into a watery laugh, “I’m just feeling so much right now, sorry. I…”

Jeno reaches for a spare blanket to wrap around their shoulders. Renjun watches the edges of the fabric drift in the lowered gravity.

“Don’t be sorry, let’s talk it out. What’s on your mind?”

Jeno looks adorable. His cheeks are slightly puffed out, eyes round and shining with devotion, ready to accept whatever additional baggage Renjun slams onto the table. The blanket rolls them up like a burrito, and it floats into Jeno’s face every few minutes.

Renjun’s tears just won’t stop. It seems like all the emotions he suppressed for an entire year were building up, and Jeno was the catalyst that brought down the dam holding them all back. “You’re so gentle with me, I don’t know what to do,” he confesses, trying to slow his breathing down.

Jeno is quiet for a minute. A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “I can be rough with you, if you want.”

Renjun gasps and smacks the boy’s shoulder indignantly. “Jeno! You know what I meant!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeno guides Renjun’s head back to the crook of his neck, “I just wanted to make you laugh. You’re so hard on yourself, Renjun, but just because you struggle to be kind to yourself doesn’t mean others have to treat you harshly.”

“But you’re-- you’re so _patient_ with me. You don’t have to do all this, but you do. I...I want to be there for you too. I want you to know that I’m by your side no matter what,” Renjun whispers into Jeno’s skin, “I don’t want to lose you, ever, and that includes after this crazy adventure is over.”

“Oh, darling, you definitely can’t get rid of me that easily,” Jeno laughs, ruffling Renjun’s hair, “We’ll be okay. Nothing has to change just because we touch soil again. ”

“Things _will_ change, though. Not with us-- at least I hope we won’t, because I can’t imagine my life without you, but the world will change and I have no idea what that will mean,” Renjun murmurs. He can feel the overwhelming emotions pulsing at the back of his mind again, threatening to possess him in full.

Below the surface of everything else, drowned out by the sudden new environment and the adjusting to others and the concerns over his relationship, the decision of what to do once he returns to Earth has been festering. Renjun has been grappling with all the what-ifs that could come from confessing everything to the world, and nothing sits right with him.

It’s another can of worms that he doesn’t particularly want to touch. And yet, Jeno’s finger lazily twirls a strand of Renjun’s hair as he whispers loving encouragements into his ears, and the words just start flowing.

“My existence is a political nightmare, Jeno. I’m-- I’m terrified of the choice that’s in front of me. We’ve spent all this time collecting evidence and I _know_ it points to Yukhei, but...it’s such a big accusation to make. We have no idea if he was a radical acting alone, or if the rest of the Chinese fleet were in on it and the whole mission was a set-up. How many lives are on my hands, Jeno? How many deaths?”

Jeno releases a pained whimper in empathy, “Junnie...How long have you been carrying this around, love?”

Renjun melts further into Jeno’s embrace, eyes falling shut. “It’s been in the back of my mind since we found out that there really was a traitor on board. I just...I need to clear my teammates names. I owe it to them, for all they did to me. But if Earth wasn’t at war before, this will certainly push everyone over the edge.” Renjun tugs the blanket tighter around them as if to seal them off from the rest of the world.

“How many more innocent people will be caught up in the crossfires of this awful feud if I tell my story? What if there was no malicious conspiracy scheme after all, and Yukhei was an anomaly that just...slipped through the cracks?”

Jeno hums thoughtfully. He gently repositions them so Renjun’s head is cradled against his chest. “This is a really difficult situation. From what we can tell, only one pod for one person was prepared, but according to Donghyuck it may have been specifically engineered for a mission like we think Yukhei’s was. It could go both ways, but it seems like whatever it was, it was premeditated.”

Renjun groans, thunking his forehead into Jeno’s chest. “So then what if we’re right, and China sabotaged the mission from the start? Or at the least, I air our suspicions about Yukhei and China takes it as a direct attack? The governments could declare _war_ depending on what I say when we touch down. How do I _live_ with myself knowing that it’ll all be my fault?”

There’s such a stark difference between suspecting betrayal and knowing it to be true. Renjun feels the weight of the decision splintering his heart in pieces. He’s hyper aware that the words on his tongue could ruin countless lives. Is shedding light on his crewmates’ deaths and not letting them be demonized by the history books worth risking the futures of God knows how many countries and their people? At what point does he need to consider the greater good?

Renjun’s heart tells him to stay loyal to those that he loved, and his moral compass agrees that the truth is always worth the backlash. He just doesn’t know if he could look in the mirror every day and know that he could have prevented a war.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” Jeno says firmly, “You’re not alone. You don’t have to shoulder this by yourself-- not now, not when we get home, not _ever._ I know it’s a big decision, Jun, and it’s completely up to you what you want to do, but know that I’m always with you. We all will stand with you, no matter what you choose.”

“Won’t you be mad at me?” Renjun’s lower lip trembles, “Won’t you be upset if I let Doyoung’s death stay a mystery?”

“Renjun,” Jeno sternly pries Renjun’s head out of his chest, tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. Renjun can see the sincerity reflected back at him as Jeno wipes his tears away as they fall.

“Nothing we can do will bring him back. You don’t owe anything to anyone right now. Please, just go with what you think is best. You and I both know that Doyoung would care far more about you following your heart than he _ever_ would about his own fate.”

Jeno’s hand flies to his neck, digging his necklace out from under his shirt. “Remember these? They’re both promises from Doyoung, tokens to connect us to him before we parted ways. He would want you to be at peace with yourself, no matter what that takes. Okay? Please don’t worry about me either. I told you I’d support whatever you decide, and I mean that.”

Jeno smooths stray strands of hair away from Renjun’s face, tucking a piece behind his ear. It immediately falls out. He tucks it back with a little more force, making them smile.

Renjun toys with the rubber bands on his wrist. He’s still mentally torturing himself over the decision, but he feels more at ease knowing that Jeno won’t be upset with him if he doesn’t turn over their evidence.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Renjun croaks, “I feel like I’m lost all over again. I don’t want to be at the center of all this tension. I just want to go home and feel gravity pull my feet to the ground and kiss you in the rain and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Jeno lifts an eyebrow, and Renjun scowls at him, “Well, we can kind of do one of the three right now...”

“What, you want to tie things to our feet to weigh us down in another makeshift gym, or something?”

“No! Well, actually, that was pretty fun, just not what I mean,” Jeno laughs, tugging on Renjun’s earlobe. By now the waterworks have mostly slowed, and a faint exhaustion headache pulses behind Renjun’s eyes.

Lazily, Jeno trails his lips across Renjun’s face, tracing butterfly kisses over his eyelids and peppering his cheeks with fleeting pecks.

With a needy pout, Renjun points unambiguously to his mouth. Jeno decides not to tease, affectionately pressing their lips together. When they break off, Jeno resumes his conquest, kissing the tip of his nose and moving towards the bridge.

“You don’t need to make any decisions right now, Jun,” he says as he leans back for a moment, “Let’s just focus on getting home. You can go with what feels right once we come to that. Okay?”

“Okay,” Renjun’s voice wobbles, and he blames his emotion-damaged wreck of an impulse control when he whines, “Can you kiss me again?”

Jeno throws his head back with laughter before bringing a thumb up to rest on Renjun’s lower lip. He looks intensely down at Renjun through his long lashes, making the blush on Renjun’s cheeks deepen.

“Always, love.”

Their lips move comfortably, languidly against each other. Renjun allows his worries to float away and his consciousness to be filled with the heady presence of Jeno, Jeno, _Jeno._

This moment is theirs for the taking. Renjun’s fate is his for the taking. It feels good to get his concerns off his chest, and the idea of being known is far less scary in practice than it was in his head. Opening up to Jeno feels like the easiest thing in the world, because he knows they’re in this together.

When they slow down a while later, Jeno gently convinces him to get ready for bed. Renjun can’t help how clingy he is, still a little lightheaded from all the crying. Jeno doesn’t seem to mind though-- in fact, he grins extra brightly when the rest of the crew eyes his arm slung tightly around Renjun’s tiny waist.

Renjun’s back is half pressed to Jeno’s front as they brush their teeth, which is wholly unnecessary and everyone is aware of it. Donghyuck looks like he wants to fake gag at their public displays of affection, but Mark elbows him in the side, probably pointing out the tear tracks staining Renjun’s face and the heaviness of his eyes, and the boy leaves them be.

For now. Renjun is certain they’ll endure all the well deserved teasing in the morning, but that’s simply not his problem at the moment.

Jeno guides them into their sleeping pod, reaching around Renjun to strap them in. They face each other in the small space. Renjun’s fingers trail up and down Jeno’s arm.

Renjun feels much lighter after talking to Jeno. He’s glad he voiced the concerns that had been weighing on him and ensured that Jeno knows Renjun is just as devoted to their relationship as Jeno always has expressed. And yet, there’s still a pit of uneasiness that roils in his gut, a residue of restlessness that leaves his skin crawling.

He shifts closer to Jeno, gaze tracing over the boy’s strong features. Jeno’s eyes are half closed. He’s relaxed, but definitely watching Renjun closely for any signs of distress.

“Will you take me to another memory?” Renjun whispers, not wanting anyone else on the ship to overhear.

His line of sight drifts over Jeno and through the crack in the pod’s sliding door. He can just see through a window on the other side of the cabin, but he can’t see any stars beyond it. The cold feeling curdles in his chest.

One consequence of an emotional break is feeling like he’s been utterly wiped, like he’s processed so many emotions that he’s at capacity and apathy has taken over.

He feels too detached from himself and the world, like Earth is nothing more than a figment of his imagination. Sometimes he doubts he ever had a home to return to in the first place, and wonders if he had really lived his whole life on that wretched pod and everyone was just too nice to burst his bubble.

“Of course. Where do you want to go tonight?”

Renjun wriggles onto his back, and Jeno throws his arm over his chest to snuggle into his side. “Can we go to a concert? I can’t remember what it’s like to be around so many people. Isn’t it overwhelming?”

Jeno’s giggle tickles Renjun’s skin. “Oh, absolutely. Okay, Jun, prepare yourself. Close your eyes so I can show you my first mosh pit. I was fifteen, it was an EXO concert, and people fainted. Buckle up!”

“Your first _what?_ Wait, wait, I’m reconsidering.”

“You can’t cancel your order now, Junnie! I will lull you to sleep with the vivid image of me nimbly dodging flying elbows and sweaty fists while EXO goes absolutely stupid during El Dorado, and that’s final!”

Renjun gives in with a mock sigh of annoyance that makes Jeno poke him in the side. He listens to Jeno’s voice murmuring in his ear as the scene is crafted easily around them, turning their little chamber into a window to a different time.

As sleep darkens the edges of his vision and awareness starts to slip away, Renjun’s fingers find the rubber bands resting around his wrist. He strokes over them again, falling asleep with a soft grin on his face. He resolves to add them to the once-deserted rubber band ball in the morning.

How lovely, for something abandoned to find new life.


	5. DROP

Jeno is complaining about a headache again.

Renjun worries at his lower lip over breakfast, watching Jeno rub his temples tiredly. Donghyuck ropes the boy into a spirited conversation about the terrible soap fragrances the mission specialists chose when stocking their ship. It’s normally a debate Jeno would be fully entertained by, considering his immense distaste for the cucumber liquid soap from LYRA-1, but Renjun can see the way his shoulders slump and how he massages at his neck every few minutes.

With a deep frown, Renjun roots around in his bag for some mild painkillers. He slides them over to Jeno, who takes them gratefully. Renjun bats Jeno’s hand away from where he’s digging at his shoulder, and shuffles closer to press his own hands against the joints. He rubs small circles into the stiffened muscles, and Jeno sighs in relief.

“Ew, get a room. Or a space-y sleeping pod, whatever.” Donghyuck pokes fun at them, but there’s something uneasy hidden under his teasing grin.

Renjun rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. He leans down to whisper in Jeno’s ear, not wanting anyone (Donghyuck) to overhear.

“Still getting joint flare ups, love?”

Renjun holds his breath waiting for the answer, but Jeno stares resolutely at the blinking lights and beeping systems in front of them.

He sighs. “Please, tell me about these things, Jeno. _Especially_ if you start having chest pains. You and I both know you run the risk of serious consequences from exiting the escape pod without proper adjustment and I can’t-- I can’t help you if I don’t _know_ you’re hurting _,_ and I can’t let y--”

“Baby, don’t worry about me. I’m alright.” Jeno turns, catching Renjun’s wrists with his hands. Renjun searches his eyes for any hints of concealed pain, but all he sees is boundless affection. He crumples against Jeno, laying his head on his shoulder.

“Okay. I’ll let it go for now, but the first thing we’re doing when we land is getting you checked up at a real hospital.”

He won’t force Jeno to make a promise that neither of them are certain he can keep.

“Aww, do we have to?” Jeno pouts, ramping up his puppy eyes to maximum efficiency, “I wanted to take you right to the new ice cream shop in my hometown. It has all these cute fairy lights strung up outside and benches by flower beds and probably a couples discount, or something. We can get an extra large milkshake with two straws like in the movies, and I won’t even be mad if you drink the whole thing.”

“That will be second on our to-do list, assuming I’m not immediately seized by the government upon return,” Renjun pats Jeno’s head.

Instead of sitting Renjun down for a lengthy lecture about not fixating on the backlash and instead reminding him of his inherent worth as a human being, Jeno just smiles, pretty eyes curving up, “Don’t worry. I’m sure fugitives can get ice cream, too. At the very least we’ll get you some frozen yogurt.”

Renjun throws his head back in a laugh. Jeno has gotten quite good at this-- effortlessly shutting down the beginnings of Renjun’s spiralling with a few well placed jokes. Or kisses.

Kisses work really well.

“It’s a date,” Renjun says, and watches with warmth flickering in his chest as Jeno’s face lights up.

* * *

Renjun corners Mark later that day. He shifts uncomfortably while he waits for Mark to finish inputting some codes into a side screen on the main control board.

“What’s up, Renjun? Oh, are you ready to help us with assembling some of the replacement parts? We could definitely use your steady doctor’s hands with the more delicate components. In fact, I think Jaemin has the--”

“Mark?” Renjun interrupts awkwardly, and the other boy blinks at him with wide eyes. “Um. Yeah, I’d love to help. I was just...I was just wondering what timeframe we’re working with? For, uh, returning to Earth?”

Mark tilts his head. “Is everything okay? We’ll get you home as soon as the repairs on the LYRA-1 emergency pod are done, I swear. I know how badly you must want to go home, and we’re working on it! You don’t have to worry, though, no one knows you’re here and we only need to radio down to base about this when we’re ready for re-entry.”

“I know, but...how quickly can we finish the repairs?” Renjun can barely suppress a frustrated groan and throws a cautious glance around the area, “It’s-- it’s not about me. I’m worried about Jeno.”

Mark lifts an eyebrow, expression instantly schooled into something serious and grim. After ensuring that he can confide in Mark, Renjun unloads his concerns about the state of Jeno’s health, especially with prolonged time in chambers of decreased gravity. By the end of it, a stern look has settled into the lines of Mark’s face, and he rolls his shoulders with a sigh.

“Goddamn. No wonder why the ship looks like that. Jeno is such a force to be reckoned with,” Mark shakes his head, “I’ll try to ramp up our process. We already planned to cut our scheduled mission short, so we might as well abandon the telescope check-ups entirely at this point. If anyone on the ground questions us about skipping assignments, we’ll just make something up. We’ll try our best, Renjun. We’re going to get both you and Jeno home in one piece.”

Renjun deflates. “Thank you, Mark. I’m not in any rush myself-- quite the opposite, as ironic as that might seem-- but Jeno...I’ll just never forgive myself if something happens to him.”

“You’re doing fine, Renjun,” Mark claps him on the shoulder, an odd glimmer of pride in his eyes. “You’re good for him, I can tell.”

Renjun tries not to preen at the blessing as Mark punches another line of code into the screen nearest him and rummages around for some tools. “Now, I have a feeling Jaemin will positively rip Jeno’s head from his body if he finds out about Jeno’s little stunt with the impromptu spacewalk. He deserves the scolding, but I think it’ll ultimately cost us even more time, so I’ll notify the rest of the team about shifting into around the clock work without all the...details.”

Mark passes a small tablet and a few instruments over to Renjun, and they head to the docked craft with newfound determination.

* * *

Days pass in a frenzied haze. For a while, all Renjun can concentrate on is the fluorescent screens blinking back at them, the tools changing hands around him, the press of Jeno’s lips to the skin under his ear, and the quiet whirs and clicks as the damaged pod bends to their will.

Jisung wipes the sweat off his brow, leaning over from where he’s perched near the engines to yell something to Donghyuck. Jaemin is helping Renjun carefully extract and organize all the evidence he has about his former crewmate. His face is set in somber lines as they work, but Renjun is just relieved that he doesn’t have to sift through all the memories alone while Jeno is busy fixing the flight controls.

It’s nice to have others to rely on. Renjun didn’t know it was possible, but he’d somehow grown incredibly comfortable around the rest of the team. They welcomed him with open arms, and he’s beginning to relax into the embrace.

They fully encourage his relationship with Jeno, too, which was something Renjun didn’t even realize he was worried about until he felt the strength of their support. The entire team is obviously very close to and protective of Jeno, so having them stand with Renjun quiets the insecurity still simmering in his head.

Chenle enters the port with a long, thin strip of thermoplastic tile from the 3D printer. Flat on one side and slightly grooved on the other, the piece has small twists and bumps shaping it that make the design look incredibly complicated. He pops up to the top of the ship to fiddle with the split rudder.

Jaemin and Renjun make small talk as they finish sealing away the evidence. They try to leave as much untouched as possible, but still log evidence of as many items as possible into AQUILA-3’s database for extra protection, and store image documentation of what they can’t make copies of. Jaemin is in one of his excitable moods, hopping around the inside of the ship while Renjun leans against the outside of the entry hatch.

Suddenly, a loud whoop rings from above them. A beat later, Chenle’s body careens off the top of the ship, landing softly after he grabs one of the ladder rungs on the wall.

“It fits!” he shouts, eyes wild with enthusiasm and a bright beam splitting his lips, “The rudder is finally working, and the parachute is in order! If we do a final sprint to check over the engine functions and the control boards, she could be ready to fly as soon as tomorrow morning. _Tomorrow!_ We’ve done it!”

The world retracts from Renjun’s senses, every sound muffled to his ears. Both hands cling to the metal under his fingertips as he struggles to see through the panicked blur smudging his vision.

“Tomorrow? _Morning?_ ” Renjun rasps in shock. Chenle seems to mistake his reaction for one of awed surprise, and he prattles on about how it could probably fly like, _right now_ if they funneled in some extra fuel from AQUILA-3, but it’s probably better to get a good night’s sleep before embarking on the trip, unless Renjun wants to drop everything and go now?

Renjun does not, in fact, want to drop everything and go now.

The chipper rambling washes over the outermost layer of Renjun’s skin and slides right off. Chenle’s mouth is still moving, but Renjun can’t process a single word, eyes darting all across the pod.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t picture the shuttle as destined for anything other than crashing and burning.

Gentle fingertips play with the rubber bands hung around Renjun’s wrists. The shroud of unreality ebbs away at the skating touch, and Renjun snaps back to the moment.

Jaemin had apparently exited the pod. He’s lingering across the chamber near Jisung and Mark, monitoring Renjun carefully with his gaze glued to him. Jaemin offers up a brief, supportive smile when their eyes meet, and Renjun pieces it together that Jaemin must have alerted the rest of the crew of Renjun’s odd reaction. Jeno’s presence is solid and steady beside Renjun.

“What do you think, baby? Are you ready to go home?”

As always, Jeno is right there to catch him-- but this time, Renjun doesn’t fall. He teeters at the edge, sure, but he pulls himself back before he can plummet from the cliff.

He’s had enough of being shoved into a passive role in his own life, watching helplessly as his entire sense of being spirals away from his control.

Fear and power come hand in hand, and Renjun refuses to bow to them anymore.

With slow, deep breaths and Jeno’s worried eyes locked onto his, Renjun comes back to himself. He straightens his back, grabs Jeno’s hand, and nods at Mark.

“Tomorrow morning. If the ship is ready, I’m ready.”

Renjun can feel the pride rolling off Jeno in waves. Mark smiles as well, flashing him two finger guns in an awkward show of respect. Renjun doesn’t know exactly how to respond to that.

Not long after the reveal, the entire team clusters around Mark to sketch out a rough plan of how to deal with the coming hours.

Mark designates Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jisung to complete the final tests ensuring that the pod will be strong enough to survive re-entry and a splashdown landing.

Mark will radio down to base right before the plan is enacted so there is enough rescue personnel for two crafts. It needs to be timed just before they enter the twelve minute ionization blackout that will block their communications with the mission officials, but not too soon lest news of the unexpected second craft spreads out of their control.

The rest of them are tasked with general spaceflight preparations: gathering the launch and re-entry suits, reconfiguring the computers and the hydraulic systems, and securing everything on board.

“Someone needs to fly the pod…” Donghyuck frowns, tapping his finger against his thigh, “It won’t be a smooth ride.”

“I’ll do it,” Jeno volunteers immediately, “I have basic re-entry flight training from school, and I’ve been working with the pilot controls since we started repairs. I can handle it.”

Jaemin’s face darkens, but Renjun knows none of them can deter Jeno once he sets his mind to something, no matter how dangerous it may be.

It’s a good thing Renjun has learned to be equally stubborn.

“I’m coming with you, then.”

Jeno’s attention snaps to Renjun, worry crumpling between his eyebrows, “Junnie, no. You can take my spot on AQUILA-3. It’ll be safer, and you won’t have to go anywhere near the shuttle.”

Jeno is an idiot if he thinks Renjun feels safer anywhere other than in his arms.

Perhaps Renjun has become more attuned to any minor shift in Jeno’s body language than the others, because no one else calls out the slight trembling in Jeno’s tensed shoulders or the lack of color in his cheeks.

Jeno is afraid. He’s afraid of flying solo, afraid of losing control, afraid of _failing_.

Renjun won’t let him suffer like that.

“I’m going with you, and that’s final. We’re in this together, remember? I won’t let you face this alone.” Renjun’s gaze wanders toward the looming hunk of metal in the middle of the chamber. He turns a cheeky grin on Jeno as he squeezes the boy’s knee.

“Besides, I’m sure there’s room for two.”

* * *

The air hangs thickly around them for the rest of the day, charged with an anticipation that Renjun suspects might be masked dread. Everyone oscillates between excitedly preparing for the next step of their journey and grimly realizing that they’re about to descend into a battlefield.

Renjun helps out wherever he can, following instructions from the rest of the crew and also trying to glean any dormant information from his botched pre-flight trainings. He listens in as Chenle and Jaemin give Jeno a final crash course on piloting the pod. It seems to be more for their sake than Jeno’s, since no one seems eager to let Jeno out of their sight again so soon.

“He really is an idiot,” Donghyuck crosses his arms and blows a piece of his bangs out of his eyes. The strands hang in the air for a beat too long before drifting down again. “Take care of him, yeah?”

Jeno makes them special occasion scrambled eggs for dinner. It’s stupid, it’s so _fucking_ stupid and tastes terrible and isn’t much of a dinner at all, but Renjun finds himself holding back tears for more than one reason.

Jaemin puts together a much nicer meal afterwards.

Renjun wrangles Jeno to bed at a reasonable time. He isn’t wild about forcing the morning to come faster, but he’s beginning to worry that Jeno will evade sleep entirely at this point. The other boy has been pacing around the port for what must be hours by now, checking and rechecking to make sure everything is in perfect working order for the morning.

Using a rung on the wall to float himself high enough, Renjun hooks his chin over Jeno’s shoulder. “It’s not going to fall apart if you take your eyes off it, you know. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

Jeno sighs, fidgeting with his hands. “I know. I just don’t want anything to go wrong...”

As much as Renjun wants to promise to him that everything will work flawlessly, he’s learned to expect obstacles. It’s more efficient to plan for how to deal with them than to plan around them.

Jeno reaches out to inspect the engine for what must be the seventh time in the few minutes that Renjun has observed him. He winces when he extends his elbow, and Renjun’s mouth sets in a firm line. He catches Jeno’s hand and holds it close to his chest, waiting for Jeno to turn his exhaustion-rimmed eyes to him.

“I know, love. I know. Let’s get some sleep, and we can deal with everything in the morning.” Renjun tucks a piece of Jeno’s hair behind his ear before gently leading him away from the docked craft.

They complete their nighttime routine quietly. The rest of the crew has already retired to bed, and the silence on the ship is deafening. Anxious energy is worked into every inch of their surroundings, and Renjun struggles not to buckle to it.

“How are you feeling?”

Jeno straps them into his sleeping pod with slightly quivering fingers. They move to tangle across Renjun’s long hair, and he relaxes into the feeling.

“I’m terrified,” Renjun admits, voice small and uncertain under the thick blanket of perceived night, “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we land, or who I’ll be in the aftermath.”

Jeno hums. There’s a sleepy haze cast across his heavy eyes, and he blinks slowly. “That’s okay. You don’t need to know yet. You just have to live and breathe like everyone else. Just one more day, Renjun, and you’ll be home.”

“That’s just it, though,” Renjun whines into Jeno’s broad chest. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt human, Jeno, I think I’ve forgotten how. I don’t know if-- if I even remember how to be whoever I was down there.”

Jeno props himself up on one elbow, the drowsiness immediately dissolving from his body. His eyes roam over Renjun’s curled up form.

“You don’t have to be the person you used to be or jump back into the life you left like nothing happened. Jun, you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to see the world differently, it’s okay to just be who you are right _now._ In fact, change is part of being human.”

Renjun’s face crumples at the words, but Jeno’s hands are there to brush away his tears as soon as they come. Jeno litters small kisses all over Renjun’s cheeks, and when he pauses, Renjun leans up to do the same.

“You are Huang Renjun, flight surgeon of LYRA-1, twenty two years old, born in China but lives in Korea, no siblings but many cousins, made of so much devotion to your passions and talents and to the world and life itself, and _I love you_. I told you I’d always be here to remind you of who you are, and I meant that. I’ll even teach you to be human again, if you want me to.”

Jeno cups Renjun’s jaw softly, and Renjun bites back sobs because he’s so _overwhelmed._ He had always cursed his shitty luck, but Lee Jeno was the luckiest miracle he’d ever struck, and the force of his love for him almost feels like too much for Renjun’s tiny frame to handle.

Renjun’s teary eyes brim with affection and appreciation as he connects their lips.

“I think you already have.”

* * *

Renjun wakes to harsh fluorescent lights and soft lips pressed to his forehead. He stretches lazily like a cat, limbs knocking into the sides of the small chamber. Fond chuckling filters from above him, and he turns his bleary gaze to the source.

“Good morning, baby,” Jeno whispers, “It’s time to go.”

Renjun gulps as full awareness rushes back to him. He jolts up in the pod, rasping out a weak, “Oh. Right.”

Jeno drops a kiss to the top of Renjun’s head before peeling himself out of the chamber. He’s probably going to throw together a quick breakfast and review the game plan with the rest of the crew one last time.

Renjun lingers in the pod for a few more minutes, grounding himself and preparing for the day ahead. He groans as he changes out of his sleeping clothes and shuffles into the rest of the crew quarters.

Renjun creeps around the cabin, checking that he has everything. His precious medical bag is slung over his shoulder. Jeno’s rubber bands are still secured around his wrist, and he takes a heartbeat to press his lips to the smooth metal of Doyoung’s necklace.

Today, everything changes.

The flight deck is bustling with activity. Groggy voices yell out velocities and coordinates and other commands that go right over Renjun’s head. Mark greets him with a tight smile and sends him and Jisung off to complete the final reconfigurations to reroute the flight computers for atmospheric entry.

Donghyuck had programmed AQUILA-3 to begin straying from their assigned trajectory hours before they woke up. Their speed continues to climb as they rocket back towards Earth, and it seems that despite all the disorganization and neglect from mission control, someone had finally noticed their odd activity.

Stern words float back to them, accompanied by rapid typing and rhythmic beeps.

“I think Mark is breaking the news to the ground right now,” Jisung pauses to check the time on the computer screen they’re working on, “Yeah. We have about an hour before we reach the proper entry altitude and end up in a radio communication blackout.”

“Wow,” is all Renjun can muster up in the following few minutes, before offering a choked attempt at a joke, “Hope the government has time to prepare me a nice welcome home party. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen balloons.”

He’d much prefer balloons to handcuffs.

Jisung giggles and promises to show him how to make some cool balloon animals once they’re home. After the systems have been rebooted and contact with mission control is severed, Jisung peers at the time again.

“Guess it’s time to get you and Jeno suited up in the pod, huh?”

Renjun nods halfheartedly. The plan is to separate the escape pod from AQUILA-3 before they reach 282 kilometers above the Earth’s surface, roughly the correct height to begin re-entry. The extra boost from pushing off from AQUILA-3 along with the fuel generously siphoned from the massive craft’s stores should be enough for Renjun and Jeno to fly the pod home.

“You’ve come very far, Renjun. That’s a special type of strength,” Jisung says shyly. He’s watching Renjun thoughtfully, and his eyes are wide with innocent admiration and genuity. There’s no expectation attached to Jisung’s words, no flimsy pleasantries or empty gestures. The sweet thought seems like it’s been on his mind for a while, and Renjun can’t help but sweep the lanky boy up in a warm hug.

“See you on the other side, Sungie.”

Everyone squeezes into their blue launch and re-entry suits as the ship hurtles closer to the target position. One by one, they gather by the entrance to the mechanical dock, none of them wanting to let go just yet.

Finally, Jaemin breaks the tension by launching himself at Jeno, forcing him to promise that he won’t do anything reckless. He then turns to Renjun with outstretched arms, and Renjun gives his permission to be wrapped up in a hug.

“I know that motherfucker is lying through his teeth to me about being careful, so please keep him in check,” Jaemin shout-whispers in Renjun’s ear, and Jeno makes an offended gasp. Renjun just laughs and pats Jaemin’s back, the familiar banter successfully staving off the crippling terror that hangs above his head, waiting to burst through his skull.

The final few minutes they spend together are filled with hugs, well wishes, and in some cases, thinly veiled sugary threats about self-sacrifice and making poor decisions. Finally, Mark begrudgingly herds the rest of the crew back to the flight deck to start disengaging the port and strapping themselves in for their own trip back home.

Renjun stops short a few feet into the gaping chamber, struck with emotion at the sight of the shuttle in front of him. He’s been around it, even inside of it, countless times since they reunited with AQUILA-3, but none of that could ever prepare him to face flying in it again.

Jeno’s pinky finger tangles with his own through their clunky gloves, and they climb into the ship together.

Renjun gazes around at the hauntingly familiar surroundings. It feels like no time at all has passed since they set foot outside the floating prison. Discomfort bubbles deep in his chest as he realizes how tempting it is to slip back into his old, passive ways-- how easy it would be to relinquish control to the trauma embedded in his brain.

“Home sweet home,” Renjun deadpans. He seals the payload bay shut before crossing over to the tiny flight deck. Jeno fiddles with some switches and controls on the main circuit board, and the entire shuttle comes alive.

It’s surreal to see the craft lit up with the same bright screens and flashing lights and system functions that Renjun associates with a real, working ship. Awed, he trails his fingertips across the screen nearest to him, startling when it flares up with numbers and codes.

“It’s...never done that before. Is this really going to work?” Renjun breathes, staring wide eyed at Jeno. Jeno laughs affectionately and tugs him into a light embrace.

“We’re about ready to fly, love. Let’s go home.”

It’s far from the proper standards of safety a normal spacecraft would require, but Renjun and Jeno secure themselves as best as possible. Jeno compulsively readjusts his grip on the control stick in front of them, scanning over the switches and buttons splayed out all across the deck.

After a few more minutes, the outer port depressurizes and the walls closing them in begin to retract. Mechanical creaks and groans ring throughout the chamber as the pod detaches from the several supports holding it in place.

Jeno’s eyes are glued to the main display screen, mouthing the flight procedure to himself over and over again. He’s deliberately avoiding the sight of his ship peeling away from them, not casting a single glance to their window as the last restraints pop out of place.

And with that, they’re off.

Renjun’s hand lays on top of Jeno’s over the control stick. Even underneath the thick suit, he can tell that Jeno is shaking.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, Jeno adjusts some dials on the dashboard. With light touches, he uses the control stick to guide the sensitive craft to their intended trajectory.

AQUILA-3 shrinks beyond the glass. Mark’s crew is set to situate themselves on a parallel path to their own. If all goes well, they should land roughly in the same area without interfering with each other in the process.

“Okay. Okay, we’re clocking in at about 302 kilometers altitude, speed of 20,212 kilometers per hour. We’re heading straight for the re-entry corridor, so we shouldn’t run into any problems with overshooting or undershooting in the atmosphere. There’s a small window where forces are balanced in our favor, but we can do it. We just have to wait until we’re at the right height and speed. Just a little longer.”

Jeno is mumbling half to himself as his fingers ghost nervously over the boards. Renjun’s gaze drifts to the massive windows in front of them. It’s still the best view on the pod, but he no longer recognizes any of the stars it captures. It seems his constellations have left him in favor of the gray smudged Earth expanding before their eyes.

Renjun is certain he can see the clouds moving.

A pang of longing strikes him as he observes his old life come into view. He wants nothing more than to breathe fresh air again. For some reason, the closer his fantasies come to actualization, the more they feel as if they’re slipping through Renjun’s fingers, lost to the cold abyss of space.

Jeno has one arm linked with Renjun’s for both of their sakes. He’s leaning back in the chair, restless eyes monitoring every minute change in the flight. The computers usually handle most of this part, but Renjun can understand Jeno’s mistrust of them, considering how the pod’s systems were so delicately pieced back together from almost complete ruin.

“Jen?” Renjun ventures, mind untethered and drifting back to the frightening pocket of the universe that kept him prisoner for so long, “W-Will you take me to a memory?”

Jeno is quiet for a moment before the tension drains from his body. He angles himself toward Renjun with a tender smile.

“Oh, baby. We don’t need to live in the past anymore. We’re going to make new memories, together.”

Renjun blinks the tears out of his eyes. He can feel Doyoung’s necklace glow against his chest, and he’s sure Jeno feels the same thing.

“Like what? I hope you know I’m not going to any mosh pits with you.”

Jeno’s laugh sounds watery, but he forges on as the mood lightens, “What, afraid you’ll be trampled by the crowd? Don’t worry, I’ll lift you up like Simba in the Lion King. You’re safe in my arms.”

“God, you’re so gross,” Renjun scowls, but there’s no heat behind his words, “I’ll make an exception, but only for Red Velvet.”

“I can make that work,” Jeno grins, tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully. He briefly turns away to check their progress before giving his full attention back to Renjun. “What else...hm, I can’t wait to take you to the beach. I can throw you in the ocean and we can learn to surf together and eat all the ice cream we want on the boardwalk. We can watch the sun set over the water and the breeze will feel so nice, Jun.”

“Mint chocolate chip ice cream?” Renjun lights up at the thought. It’s been so long since he’s had any type of ice cream, but the controversial flavor has always been one of his favorites.

Jeno wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know about that one...but I suppose I could be persuaded. As long as we get to share.”

“You’re not eating my ice cream, you leech!” Renjun jabs at him playfully. They erupt into light bickering about the legitimacies of their personal ice cream flavor tier lists.

The image of Renjun and Jeno under the summer sun, hand in hand as they stand by the water with waves lapping at their feet, lingers at the back of Renjun’s brain.

It isn’t a memory-- not yet. It’s a promise.

Renjun’s future doesn’t feel so dark and doomed anymore. As they rapidly approach the last leg of their harrowing journey, Renjun can finally start to visualize a future version of himself-- one that is thriving and happy and _alive_ , not the vision of the decaying corpse forgotten by history and left to rot in this endless vacuum that had been haunting him since the explosion.

They continue to distract each other with pretty dreams and silly, superficial arguments as time stretches on.

At last, they approach the target height of 282 kilometers. The number flashes rapidly, burned across several screens in their line of sight. AQUILA-3 is a small lump in the distance as both crafts maneuver themselves into their respective positions.

“Our velocity keeps fluctuating…” Jeno eases the control stick back, but there’s a noticeable delay in the response of the craft, “I think this thing is still a little wonky on the controls. It’s not like we had the fuel to take it for a test run.”

Renjun chews at his lip. They can only hope that the pod won’t fight with them when they’re trying to wrestle it through the atmosphere. He rests his fingers on the switches to activate the reaction control system thrusters, ready for Jeno’s cue.

A voice crackles from the transmissions, which Renjun wasn’t even aware had been fixed. “Jeno, Renjun, are you guys ready? Everything working okay? We’ll be heading into ionization blackout soon, so this is your final chance to turn us around before we hit the water.”

Jeno smiles at Donghyuck’s warm voice. He hugs Renjun closer to him, waiting for Renjun’s affirmation. Renjun nods without a second thought because he can’t afford to crumble now, not when they’re so _close._

Jeno presses down the button far to his left, swallowing hard before responding, “We’re ready. Full throttle, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck just laughs apprehensively in acknowledgement and wishes them luck before the line goes silent. The idea of being cut off from AQUILA-3 makes Renjun’s stomach turn, but there’s nothing they can do about it at this point. They can only do their best with what’s in their control, and trust that the rest of the crew can handle themselves.

They’re alone again. It won’t be for very long, but the slithery sensation of isolation simmers in his stomach.

The craft is hurtling toward Earth with its nose pointed downwards. Jeno gestures for Renjun to fire the RCS thrusters as he pulls back on the control stick. Renjun adjusts the correct switches in time with Jeno’s steering, and the front of the craft swings upward so they’re flying tail first.

“We’re approaching the upper atmosphere,” Jeno calls, eyes rapidly moving across each line of information updating across their screens. The computers automatically correct for any small shuddering movements of the vessel as it careens into the atmosphere, but they have to monitor for unexpected jerks or debris that could send them off course.

“Okay, now we need to boot up the OMS engines. Renjun, can you take care of that?” Jeno’s tongue sticks slightly out of his mouth in deep concentration as he fights with the craft to stabilize it. Renjun thinks about saluting him like a commander, but decides against it.

He reaches for the engines of the orbital maneuvering system, and the tail of the ship comes alight with flame. The imagery almost makes Renjun sick, even though he knows deorbit burn is a necessary procedure. They have to fire the engines in the opposite direction of their motion in order to slow their descent to Earth.

That doesn’t make it any easier to witness, though. Renjun suspects blue flames will haunt his skin and bones for a long time.

“We should have about twenty five minutes until we hit the upper atmosphere. How’s our speed?”

Jeno’s face is hardened with focus, fingers flying across the knobs and dials. His strong features are accentuated with the tiny pinpricks of light above each flashing button. He leans over to check Renjun’s restraints again, and Renjun returns the favor.

“We’re going a little fast, but that should even out once we can cut the engines entirely and use aerobraking to slow us down-- that just relies on the forces of drag and lift, so as long as those work in our favor...” Jeno readjusts his white knuckled grip on the control stick once again, “We’ll be fine. We’re going to have to go nose down again, so get ready with the RCS thrusters. We need to enter at a forty degree angle, or we risk burning up in the atmosphere or getting deflected back to space.”

Renjun audibly gulps. His palms are slick with sweat, heart thumping in his chest as their mission becomes more fraught with danger. He feels like he’s in way over his head, but there’s no use in dwelling in any feelings of inadequacy right now. Doubts aren’t going to return him and Jeno safely to Earth-- only trust can save them now.

They manage to coordinate the pod to fly nose down again, but much to their frustration, the angle won’t stop wavering. Jeno nearly bites clean through his lip as he nudges the controls bit by bit, trying to work against the fickle forces rattling the fragile aluminum that surrounds them.

“We’re too steep,” Jeno says in a small voice. The kilometers between them and atmospheric re-entry shrink with every blink of Renjun’s eyes, and the feeling of time running out sits heavy in the pit of his stomach.

Beyond the window, the stars fade away.

Tension builds in the craft as they exchange strained glances. They’re both trying to be strong for the other, but the acute awareness of how one tiny miscalculation could condemn them into burning up into a fleetingly lovely shooting star, crumbling to ash before they even reach the ground, is impossible to mask.

Just one more day, Renjun. Just a little more.

_Keep going._

Sucking in a deep breath, Renjun lurches forward to reach a switch near the ceiling. He cuts the engines early and activates the thrusters for a split second. He toggles between the mechanisms, rocking the craft back and forth in an attempt to time their moment of impact with passing through the perfect angle.

Next to him, Jeno swears loudly, but acclimates to the change immediately. With one hand on the control stick and the other flying over the buttons on the nearest wall, Jeno adapts to Renjun’s quick thinking.

They still don’t fit like perfect puzzle pieces, but that’s okay. They move as one, falling into a comfortable rhythm that can only be born from vulnerable nights and the courage to see the morning light together. Jeno and Renjun play the shuttle imprisoning them like an instrument at their mercy, and the beautiful harmony of the two hearts in sync is enough-- it has to be enough.

The pod shudders around them, protesting from the less than conventional piloting. The tremors travel into Renjun’s body, jostling his heart into his throat.

Finally, with the combined efforts of Renjun’s eccentric attempts and Jeno’s trained maneuvers, they manage to orient themselves at the perfect forty degrees.

Renjun’s breath catches in his chest as the seconds to impact tick down, fear still constricting around his neck. He doesn’t trust it to stay-- he never does. He doesn’t dare to move a muscle, holding his breath as he begs for the number on the display board not to waver. Jeno’s hand wraps around his, squeezing in silent reassurance.

They will make it through this alive.

Jeno’s grip only tightens, one arm slamming against Renjun’s chest to hold him in place as the pod pitches violently. The metal walls seem to ripple around them, but the shockwaves ease a few minutes after they slice through the outer layers of the atmosphere.

In front of them, glowing proudly on the screen in front of them, is the number forty.

“We made it,” Renjun’s voice scrapes the back of his throat, and he swallows hard, “We-- the atmosphere, Jeno, we--”

“We’re almost there, baby,” Jeno whispers. When Renjun looks at him, there are tears glinting in his eyes, “We’re almost there.”

They’re still streaking toward the Earth. As friction from the gas particles in the atmosphere tear away at the thermoplastic insulating the outer layers, Renjun can finally understand just how fast they’re going. Their engines are completely off, leaving them to rely on airflow like an airplane.

“120 kilometers. We’ve officially passed the critical point and entered the thermosphere,” Jeno shifts the craft slightly upwards, shallowing out their position so they can prepare to glide once they reach the main air of the atmosphere.

Renjun pales as he peers outside the window. The front of the ship releases an awful screeching sound, and the fragile aluminum is slowly heating up into a deep cherry red.

“Jeno...what’s our speed?”

Jeno’s bottom lip is raw and torn as he meets Renjun’s eyes. “Almost thirty thousand kilometers per hour, Jun.”

Renjun’s pulse flutters in his fingertips. That’s too fast-- deadly fast.

One gloved hand splays against the glass separating him from the unforgiving atmosphere. Beyond him, he can see flames licking at the nose of the ship, and he gasps.

The fire dances in front of his eyes as if to mock him, creeping up the side of the ship to finish what it had started over a year ago. Renjun can’t tear his eyes off the taunting glow, nor can he erase the feeling of fingers slipping away from his grip or drown out the wordless screams in his ears.

“Plasma flares,” Jeno grimaces. He braces himself with one hand against the nearby wall as the shuttle jerks again, “It’s normal to burn to some extent during re-entry because of the friction in the atmosphere and our high speeds, but-- but this is too much, and it’s spreading too fast! Fuck!”

On any other craft, special tiles on the outer shell of the ship should melt away to redirect the heat flow from the ship, but Renjun has no idea if the shoddily built escape pod has any such precautions. As the entire front half of the ship is swallowed up by horrible scorching flames, he decides not to bet his life on it.

“Jeno! We need to do something, right _now,_ or we’re going to burn up!”

Renjun shakes Jeno from the clutches of the horror freezing his frame. Instantly, Jeno snaps to his attention.

“I know, I know, don’t worry. We’re going to get out of this. Okay, um. Fuck, we’re still going too fast to use the parachutes; they’ll just rip right off if we deploy them now.” Jeno’s eyebrows crease in the middle of his forehead in distress. His shoulder trembles, breathing coming short and fast as his fingers hover uncertainly over the control board.

Despite the awkward way they’re strapped into the flight deck, Renjun strains himself to lean over and rest his forehead to Jeno’s shoulder, whispering soothing tokens of his affection into the thick material.

No matter what happens, they’ll face it together.

Jeno’s fingers flex anxiously, and he takes control of the joystick again. “Alright. I-I’m going to try to slow us down, but I need you to burn the leftover fuel from the RCS thrusters, okay? That will help.”

Jeno’s quivering tone doesn’t match the confidence of his words. Renjun’s gaze scans the array of blinking lights in front of him as he tackles his task. The plasma flares haunting them only intensify as time stretches out of their control.

Jeno wrenches the control stick to the right, and the craft rolls almost completely on it’s side. His hand presses Renjun’s chest back in the seat, stabilizing him even as Jeno himself pitches to the right with the sudden force.

They bear the brunt of the descent on the right side for a little before Jeno wrestles the joystick back to center and plunges them to the left.

Steep banks and turns are often utilized by spacecrafts upon re-entry to shed speed, almost like skiing down a vertical cliff, but their ship shudders with an unnatural violence at the sharp movements. Renjun isn’t sure if it’s because of their devastating speed or their inexperience, but either way he’s unsure if the beaten up shuttle can take much more of it.

Jeno grunts as he clumsily rolls them again. Beads of sweat drip down the side of his face, and he’s whispering frantic prayers and pleas as the tears spill over to his cheeks.

“We have to make it, I have t--” Jeno mutters between gasping breaths. He grimaces as his fragile joints work against the impossibly massive craft. He nearly howls with the force of his efforts as he fights to keep the controls from spasming and throwing them into a spiral they won’t be able to recover from. “I have to get us home I can’t, I c-can’t let you down here, I-- _augh!_ \-- told you we’d make it, so-- please, w-we _have to_ \--”

Renjun’s fingers land around the shaking joystick, closing over Jeno’s hand. Jeno’s limbs don’t pause in his flurried actions, but Renjun tilts his chin up to connect their watery gazes.

“Together, remember?”

Renjun yanks the control stick abruptly. The strength of both of them combined is almost enough to overwhelm the convulsing command board, and the ship nearly tips over. Jeno pulls them back just in time. The pod leans on its right, carving a curved path across the mesosphere.

When he stares at Renjun, there’s a new layer of vulnerability exposed in his irises. Cast in the crimson glow of the flames bubbling at their windows, Jeno’s tear stained cheeks glisten. Quick as lightning, he brings one hand up to his neck where his necklace always lies, before nodding reverently to Renjun.

Neither of them have to fight alone. It’s foolish to think that there aren’t others who can help to share a burden.

They grasp the controls again, adapting to each other’s abilities as they guide the shuddering ship through another series of turns. The mechanisms don’t put up as much of a fight with both of them at the helm, but it’s not easy by any means.

There’s so many other procedures they have to handle manually in the midst of steering the craft down, and Renjun can still feel Jeno’s hands quivering underneath his. He would have lost his grip several times by now, if not for Renjun acting as his shield and pressing Jeno’s fingers securely into the lever.

Squished together in their seats, Renjun takes a deep breath. He allows his red rimmed eyes to drift shut, completely trusting Jeno to guide them while he provides reinforcement.

And then, Renjun begins to sing.

It starts with hushed prayers that melt into affirmations as his voice grows steadier. He changes the _if_ ’s into _when_ ’s and buries his cheek into Jeno’s shoulder. He allows random song lyrics and soft poems to float across the flight deck with his voice as the vessel, anything that crosses his mind being converted into a melody.

It’s not beautiful. His tone is pitchy, and sobs still climb up his throat, and the rocking and rumbling of the bucking craft jostle his breath from his throat--

And he doesn’t _care._

He sings to bring life back to himself, both a tribute to the Renjun he abandoned on Earth and a promise to the Renjun returning from the heavens. He serenades the grave air with his harmonies to remind Jeno that he isn’t alone-- neither of them are.

He pours himself into the notes crawling from his tongue, watching them sink before they rise again. He doesn’t even know what he’s singing anymore, completely detached from himself, but the lyrics aren’t what matters right now.

All that exists is Renjun, Jeno, and the new life waiting for them beyond the glass.

Jeno’s fingers gradually stop quaking beneath his own. The sounds of screeching metal and crackling flame dim, only the rhythmic beeping of various systems in the craft piercing the air.

The commotion dies down. Slowly, the pod evens out and stabilizes, and the control board doesn’t flash angrily at them anymore. They’ve passed the highest heat of re-entry, and the simmering fire gradually retreats.

In the middle of it all is Renjun and Jeno, hand in hand, like it always has been.

Renjun peels his eyes open and watches the numbers drop on their accelerometer.

All their engines are cut, and they’re free falling to Earth. Renjun’s singing has dissolved into nonsense phrases and spluttered cries in the aftermath, and he can’t stop. It’s a defense mechanism, a way to fill up the empty space because he doesn’t know what could happen if he _doesn’t,_ they could crash or slip or--

Or Jeno’s lips could seal his own closed and quiet his sobs.

It’s too fleeting, just a quick peck before Jeno returns his attention to the still spiraling craft, but the gentle press is enough to shake Renjun from his panicked trance.

Jeno flicks down the switch to release the parachutes. They hold each other in place as the ship jerks from the sudden movement, then calms.

Wide eyed, all they can do is stare as the pod drifts downwards. Renjun tears his gaze away from Jeno long enough to gape at the sprawling blue below them, waiting eagerly to swallow them whole.

“Jen, th-that’s--” Renjun’s voice scratches raw at his throat. His quivering fingers press gently at the window.

It’s strange to glimpse the swathes of swirling water through the passing clouds, rather than the chilling abyss and bright constellations that Renjun had become so accustomed to.

“The ocean, baby,” Jeno’s arm circles his waist despite the restraints, “Not exactly what I meant earlier, but it’s a good place to start.”

Renjun’s chest heaves as they approach rapidly, breath fogging up the glass. The clouds are lost above them, and all Renjun can see is the churning deep blue. He can almost pick out the peaks and ripples as waves travel across the surface.

He hasn’t seen the ocean up close in a long, long time.

Bubbles of anxiety slink through Renjun’s circulation system as they prepare for a splashdown landing. Though it’s no longer fatal, they’re still too fast for a normal touchdown. At this point, there’s not much more they can do besides cross their fingers, secure themselves, and prepare for a rough landing.

“A good place to start,” Renjun repeats softly, “I like the sound of that.”

The final piece of their journey happens much faster than Renjun could ever prepare for; relative to their excessive speed, the stationary sea doesn’t stand a chance. Within seconds of it coming fully into view, the ocean’s gaping maw is upon them.

At the last second before impact, Jeno heaves the nose of the craft upwards with one hand, and grabs onto Renjun with the other.

They cling to each other as the shuttle slams into the frothing waves, the underbelly of the machine rattling as it takes the brunt of the force. Renjun is knocked around a bit, briefly losing his hold on Jeno and pitching forward into the control board. His forehead bangs against the switchboard, pain rippling through his head as he braces his arms against any flat surface he can find.

When he gets his bearings, his jaw drops. Blessedly, the windows are intact, and waves wash over the tempered glass.

They’re floating, safe and unharmed.

Next to him, Jeno groans. Renjun’s attention is immediately laser focused on the boy, wrangling himself out of his restraints to check him over. The pressure in the cabin shouldn’t have changed during re-entry, but Jeno’s complications could be irritated by anything.

Jeno has his hand clamped over his left shoulder, grimacing. His eyes soften when they find Renjun, and he leans over with his free hand to brush away the blood trickling from Renjun’s forehead.

For a moment, neither of them speak. They can’t bear to break the brittle silence, like any disturbance may wake them up from this beautiful dream. Jeno’s gaze flickers to the ocean surrounding them for a split second before searching Renjun’s face again.

He seems to find an answer, this time.

“Welcome home, Renjun,” Jeno breathes as he presses their foreheads together, “I promised I’d bring you home.”

Renjun can’t swallow his watery whimper as he crashes their lips together, hoping the kiss will convey the gratitude that can’t seem to leave his chest in words just yet. The overwhelming happiness glows like a candle light between his ribcage, standing strong against the hurricane.

Jeno smiles against Renjun’s lips, separating just far enough to speak. “Now I don’t know about you, but my ass is sore from being planted in this seat for so long. What do you say we get some fresh air?”

Jeno must be able to sense Renjun’s mixture of terror and excitement at the proposal, even as Renjun pretends to whack him for the stupid comment. He wiggles off his gloves so he can hold Renjun’s hand better, and waits patiently for an answer.

“Okay,” Renjun croaks, “Okay, let’s go. I trust you.”

He squints out the window as Jeno locks up the command board. There’s a large shape further in the distance that Renjun assumes to be AQUILA-3, but it’s too far to tell, encased in the fog rolling off the sea.

Jeno pauses to check their communications. To their delight, Jaemin’s rapid fire words fill the line as soon as they open them up.

“Jeno, you bumbling fucking idiot! You’re way off course, what were you thinking? I’m so glad you’re okay! But, what the fuck, are you going on a goddamn leisure cruise? Is that what this is, a little detour? Couldn’t date night fucking wait until tomorrow? Jesus Christ I’m so relieved that you’re safe, I would’ve killed you myself if you died on me. Renjun, you’re doing amazing sweetie.”

Jeno snorts, waiting for Jaemin to run out of steam with his lecture as they seal off the rest of the craft and prepare for exiting. Finally, Jaemin’s words lose their nervous energy and grow small and stressed with a quiet, “A-Are you there?”

Renjun takes over. “We’re okay, Jaemin, we’re fine. We had some...difficulties, but we landed. We don’t seem to be in any danger of sinking, which is good.”

Jaemin releases a deep sigh of relief that crackles over the ancient system. “Thank god. Okay. The rescue and recovery teams should be here soon. They might take a while longer to reach you guys because you’re a bit off target from where we predicted, but it shouldn’t be a problem. There will probably be press waiting, since Mark refused to give much information to mission control about the mysterious second ship we acquired on mission. Just-- ugh, hang on.” the communications cut off for a second, “Chenle wants me to ask if you can see him waving. He’s on top of the ship.”

Renjun scans the scene outside their window, peering hard at the vaguely spacecraft shaped blob in the distance. He’s not sure if the tiny dot jumping up and down on it is a trick of his eyes or not.

“Please tell him to get down.”

“You think I haven’t _tried?_!”

They disconnect with Renjun promising to let Jaemin beat Jeno’s ass as soon as they get on real solid ground again. Renjun bargains with him to allow Renjun an hour to get ice cream with Jeno before the ass whooping, which Jaemin begrudgingly agrees to before they close the line.

Jeno is pouting playfully to the side, but it quickly deepens into a genuine frown as he brushes a thumb over the small cut in Renjun’s forehead.

“You’re hurt…” he says under his breath, stricken. He fumbles around Renjun's medical bag to dab antiseptic on the spot, but Renjun catches his arms.

“I’m okay,” Renjun shifts Jeno into an embrace, “but can we just stay like this for now? Please?”

Renjun knows that Jeno could never turn that down. And so they sit in each other’s arms by the escape pod’s hatch once again, waiting for this fabled rescue. Renjun hopes it sticks this time, and that whatever they’ll face in the coming days, weeks, months, even years, will be no worse than what they’ve already endured.

They’ve been through hell. Renjun just prays that wasn’t supposed to be the easy part.

After what feels like an extra lifetime of waiting, the sound of helicopter wings beating against the air descend on them.

Eyes blown wide, Renjun and Jeno clutch each other a fraction tighter. Renjun’s fingers don’t quite shake as they rest on the latch of the door-- he’s always had steady hands, after all. The best in his entire class.

“This is it,” Renjun says. His fingertips are tensed where they dig into the metal, ready to pull.

“No, love,” Jeno’s breath ghosts over his ear as his hand covers Renjun’s, “This is the beginning.”

Together, they open the doors to let the sunlight spill in.

Renjun squints at the barrage of sensations fighting for his attention. People are shouting from one of the three helicopters circling them. The sting of salty seawater hangs heavy in the air. From far away, Renjun can tell that there is a boat approaching, likely to load up the floating shuttle.

The ocean is blue and the sun is so, _so_ bright. It washes over his skin, bathing him in a warmth that welcomes him home with open arms. The euphoria rippling through his heart as he basks in the glow is second only to the feeling of Jeno’s body wrapped around his own.

Shapes and blobs shift through Renjun’s vision as his weakened eyes struggle to adjust to the vibrant hues of natural light. He strains to make out what’s happening around him, pulse fluttering in his chest as information filters in piece by piece.

Someone is yelling instructions that Renjun can’t hear. Jeno’s strong grip around him steadies him a bit, just enough to recognize the ladder hanging in front of them.

Renjun looks back with a frantic expression, but Jeno’s eyes curve up in those soothing half moons as he nudges him on. Ultimately, it’s Renjun who places his hand on the first rung.

He just has to stay in motion.

They scale the ladder slowly but surely. Renjun forces Jeno to go first so he can keep a close watch on him and ensure that Jeno’s joints won’t flare up from the climb.

Finally, they reach the lip of the aircraft, breathing heavily. Jeno pays no mind to the various personnel clamoring for their attention, turning to haul Renjun up with both hands.

Instantly, several people are crowding into Renjun’s personal space. Some of them are likely officials from mission control sent to supervise the recovery. People pull at his suit and interrogate him with questions he doesn’t know how to answer, and it all roars right past his awareness in the same gurgled mess.

They try to pull him away from Jeno so separate medical responders can tend to them. This immediately elicits the strongest response they’ve seen so far as both Renjun and Jeno vehemently bat them away, glued to each other’s sides. It’s too early, too overwhelming in the stuffy craft to be ripped away from each other just yet. That can come later, once the utter pandemonium slows down.

Renjun can feel the panic swelling above his head, ready to burst and drench his body with adrenaline. He nearly wants to launch himself back out of the helicopter at the sheer number of strangers in the cramped space, let alone when they’re all barraging him with questions. Somewhere in the back, Renjun is almost certain he can spot a news camera rolling.

“Step away,” Jeno holds up his free hand threateningly, and the din quiets a fraction, “Give us space.”

Some of the reporters visibly do a double take at the word ‘ _us_ ’, piercing gazes traveling from Jeno to Renjun and back again.

Renjun should have expected Jeno to be recognized, as astronauts are fairly well known within their tiny fields. Renjun himself must be far past identification with his long hair twisted into a ponytail and gaunt cheekbones even more pity-inducing exposed in the sunlight.

Besides, as far as these people know, Huang Renjun is dead.

One reporter has the courage to stick her microphone back out, eyes glittering with the promise of a story.

“Who are _you_?”

It’s all she asks. Jeno opens his mouth to tell her off again, but Renjun lays his free hand on Jeno’s arm. The buzz in the helicopter immediately dies as everyone in the space holds their breath. Even Jeno looks shocked as his grip on Renjun tightens.

“Are you sure, Jun?” he whispers into his ear, only audible to Renjun.

Renjun shakes his head imperceptibly. He’s not sure-- not at all. There are words laying heavy on his tongue, a story that has been swirling around his brainstem, images woven into his most horrid nightmares, but he hesitates.

Logically, he knows he should refuse to speak to anyone until he’s in the presence of the higher ups at mission control, or even the government, for credibility. But if he’s going to come forward with his story, it’s probably best to share it with the public as soon as possible, before he could... _disappear_...under some tragic circumstances.

Renjun has his fingers on the trigger. He just has to decide whether to fire.

Doyoung’s necklace burns the image of the sun into the skin atop Renjun’s heart. Jeno squeezes his hand, fingertips briefly catching on the rubber bands still circling Renjun’s wrists. Renjun knows that whatever he chooses, Jeno will be with him until the bitter end.

 _For you,_ Renjun thinks as he leans in toward the offered microphone, _For all of you._

“My name is Huang Renjun, flight surgeon for shuttle LYRA-1. I became stranded in space when mission FUSE went up in flames over a year ago, but I am alive, and I _remember_.”

The heavy words drag into the air, and Renjun can almost see tendrils of blood dripping from them and dotting the floor. The helicopter echoes with gasps of shock and expressions of confusion, but Renjun drowns it all out with the tangling of Jeno’s fingers in his.

His heart pounds in his chest, fear of what’s to come constricting around his throat. But then the helicopter starts to move, and the image of the battered craft bobbing in the great wide sea shrinks from view.

Funny how they’re supposed to be heading home when Renjun’s home is already here, whispering soft affirmations into his hair.

Renjun takes a deep, shuddering breath. He opens his mouth again, grabbing the microphone from the shell-shocked reporter, and cuts his hard gaze to the news camera situated in the back of the crowd. His hands do not shake as he speaks, clear and pained and _angry._

The aircraft erupts into utter chaos at his next words. More microphones are shoved in his face, but Jeno angles his body in front of Renjun to deter them. He cups Renjun’s cheeks in his hands, brushing away his tears as they both sob. Jeno tells him he’s proud of him, over and over again.

Renjun might be terrified of the future, but he knows that whatever comes next, they will face it together. Though battered and beaten from his harrowing journey, Renjun has risen to be stronger than he ever has been before, and he understands the full consequences of what he’s just set in motion.

“What happened to my team was not an accident, and we will prove it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAA OKAY so this is it !!!! the end !!!!!!!! thank you so much for reading!! 
> 
> i really, really loved writing this T___T this project was a huge leap out of my comfort zone, so prompter i really, sincerely hope you enjoyed it. it's near and dear to my heart ;;;; 
> 
> stay tuned for the sequel: Renjun Goes To Therapy ! (i'm joking) (unless......?) but yes renjun and jeno will be okay i promise :') they will be safe and happy and they go for ice cream asap <333
> 
> THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER :( but i did a like a month of research before i started writing so if ur interested in my works cited page. Continue On skdfsjkfsjk
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)
> 
> feel free to drop a comment and let me know what u thought, it really means the world to me :] <3


	6. Works Cited

**i didnt do all this research for nothing**

**LIFE IN SPACE:**

Sleeping:

[ https://www.nasa.gov/audience/foreducators/stem-on-station/ditl_sleeping ](https://www.nasa.gov/audience/foreducators/stem-on-station/ditl_sleeping)

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyFYgeE32f0 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyFYgeE32f0)

Eating/Nutrition:

[ https://science.howstuffworks.com/astronauts-eat-in-space.htm#:~:text=When%20mealtime%20rolls%20around%2C%20astronauts,160%20and%20170%20degrees%20Fahrenheit ](https://science.howstuffworks.com/astronauts-eat-in-space.htm#:~:text=When%20mealtime%20rolls%20around%2C%20astronauts,160%20and%20170%20degrees%20Fahrenheit).

[ https://www.nasa.gov/audience/foreducators/stem-on-station/ditl_eating ](https://www.nasa.gov/audience/foreducators/stem-on-station/ditl_eating)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/pdf/143163main_Space.Food.and.Nutrition.pdf ](https://www.nasa.gov/pdf/143163main_Space.Food.and.Nutrition.pdf)

Exercise:

[ https://www.theverge.com/2017/8/29/16217348/nasa-iss-how-do-astronauts-exercise-in-space ](https://www.theverge.com/2017/8/29/16217348/nasa-iss-how-do-astronauts-exercise-in-space)

Showering:

[ https://airandspace.si.edu/stories/editorial/how-shower-space#:~:text=On%20the%20ISS%2C%20astronauts%20do,from%20pouches%20onto%20their%20skin.&text=An%20airflow%20system%20nearby%20quickly,washing%20her%20hair%20in%20space ](https://airandspace.si.edu/stories/editorial/how-shower-space#:~:text=On%20the%20ISS%2C%20astronauts%20do,from%20pouches%20onto%20their%20skin.&text=An%20airflow%20system%20nearby%20quickly,washing%20her%20hair%20in%20space).)

  
  
  
  
  


**SPACEWALKS AND SUITS:**

Launch and Re-entry suits:

[ https://www.nasa.gov/feature/orion-suit-equipped-to-expect-the-unexpected-on-artemis-missions ](https://www.nasa.gov/feature/orion-suit-equipped-to-expect-the-unexpected-on-artemis-missions)

Spacewalks:

[ https://science.howstuffworks.com/spacewalk3.htm ](https://science.howstuffworks.com/spacewalk3.htm)

Spacewalk Suits:

[ https://airandspace.si.edu/stories/editorial/how-do-you-put-apollo-spacesuit ](https://airandspace.si.edu/stories/editorial/how-do-you-put-apollo-spacesuit)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/feature/spacewalk-spacesuit-basics ](https://www.nasa.gov/feature/spacewalk-spacesuit-basics)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/audience/forstudents/5-8/features/nasa-knows/what-is-a-spacesuit-58.html ](https://www.nasa.gov/audience/forstudents/5-8/features/nasa-knows/what-is-a-spacesuit-58.html)

Communication:

[ https://www.nasa.gov/topics/moonmars/features/hatsman.html ](https://www.nasa.gov/topics/moonmars/features/hatsman.html)

  
  
  
  


**MEDICAL:**

G-Forces:

[ https://jkconnectors.com/aviation-lifestyle/how-g-forces-impact-the-human-body/#:~:text=As%20objects%20accelerate%20through%20the,and%20matter%20of%20all%20kinds.&text=Any%20higher%20and%20g%2Dinduced,lose%20control%20of%20their%20aircrafts ](https://jkconnectors.com/aviation-lifestyle/how-g-forces-impact-the-human-body/#:~:text=As%20objects%20accelerate%20through%20the,and%20matter%20of%20all%20kinds.&text=Any%20higher%20and%20g%2Dinduced,lose%20control%20of%20their%20aircrafts).

Aerospace Medicine:

[ https://www.ama-assn.org/residents-students/specialty-profiles/what-it-s-aerospace-medicine-shadowing-dr-ortega ](https://www.ama-assn.org/residents-students/specialty-profiles/what-it-s-aerospace-medicine-shadowing-dr-ortega)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/content/flight-surgeons ](https://www.nasa.gov/content/flight-surgeons)

The Body in Spaceflight/Known Medical Issues:

[ https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/3490786/ ](https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/3490786/)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/hrp/bodyinspace ](https://www.nasa.gov/hrp/bodyinspace)

[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illness_and_injuries_during_spaceflight#Non-emergency_medical_conditions ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illness_and_injuries_during_spaceflight#Non-emergency_medical_conditions)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/content/fluid-shifts-study-advances-journey-to-mars ](https://www.nasa.gov/content/fluid-shifts-study-advances-journey-to-mars)

[ https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4284461/ ](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4284461/)

Decompression Sickness and the Effects of Pressure Changes :

[ https://www.merckmanuals.com/home/injuries-and-poisoning/diving-and-compressed-air-injuries/decompression-sickness#:~:text=By%20the%20time%20severe%20joint,correct%2C%20even%20with%20appropriate%20treatment ](https://www.merckmanuals.com/home/injuries-and-poisoning/diving-and-compressed-air-injuries/decompression-sickness#:~:text=By%20the%20time%20severe%20joint,correct%2C%20even%20with%20appropriate%20treatment).

[ https://www.merckmanuals.com/professional/injuries-poisoning/injury-during-diving-or-work-in-compressed-air/arterial-gas-embolism ](https://www.merckmanuals.com/professional/injuries-poisoning/injury-during-diving-or-work-in-compressed-air/arterial-gas-embolism)

[ https://www.diversalertnetwork.org/medical/articles/Decompression_Illness_What_Is_It_and_What_Is_The_Treatment ](https://www.diversalertnetwork.org/medical/articles/Decompression_Illness_What_Is_It_and_What_Is_The_Treatment)

[ http://www.atmo.arizona.edu/students/courselinks/fall12/atmo336/lectures/sec1/pres_effects.html ](http://www.atmo.arizona.edu/students/courselinks/fall12/atmo336/lectures/sec1/pres_effects.html)

[ https://www.health.harvard.edu/a_to_z/decompression-sickness-a-to-z#:~:text=Emergency%20treatment%20for%20decompression%20sickness,of%20the%20bed%20tilted%20down ](https://www.health.harvard.edu/a_to_z/decompression-sickness-a-to-z#:~:text=Emergency%20treatment%20for%20decompression%20sickness,of%20the%20bed%20tilted%20down).

[ https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1332040/ ](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1332040/)

[ https://www.deepbluediving.org/long-term-effects-decompression-sickness/ ](https://www.deepbluediving.org/long-term-effects-decompression-sickness/)

  
  


Effects of Isolation:

[ https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20140514-how-extreme-isolation-warps-minds ](https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20140514-how-extreme-isolation-warps-minds)

  
  
  
  


**PILOTING:**

Simulators: 

[ https://arstechnica.com/science/2015/06/a-detailed-photo-tour-of-nasas-space-shuttle-cockpit-trainer/ ](https://arstechnica.com/science/2015/06/a-detailed-photo-tour-of-nasas-space-shuttle-cockpit-trainer/)

[ https://midwestflyer.com/?p=9991 ](https://midwestflyer.com/?p=9991)

[ https://www.flightglobal.com/armchair-astronaut-flying-the-space-shuttle-simulator/97029.article#:~:text=The%20control%20stick%20for%20the,base%20of%20the%20stick%20grip ](https://www.flightglobal.com/armchair-astronaut-flying-the-space-shuttle-simulator/97029.article#:~:text=The%20control%20stick%20for%20the,base%20of%20the%20stick%20grip).

[ https://www.livescience.com/33402-how-land-space-shuttle-atlantis.html ](https://www.livescience.com/33402-how-land-space-shuttle-atlantis.html)

  
  


Re-entry:

[ https://science.howstuffworks.com/space-shuttle7.htm ](https://science.howstuffworks.com/space-shuttle7.htm)

[ https://www.faa.gov/about/office_org/headquarters_offices/avs/offices/aam/cami/library/online_libraries/aerospace_medicine/tutorial/media/iii.4.1.7_returning_from_space.pdf ](https://www.faa.gov/about/office_org/headquarters_offices/avs/offices/aam/cami/library/online_libraries/aerospace_medicine/tutorial/media/iii.4.1.7_returning_from_space.pdf)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/launch/landing101.html ](https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/launch/landing101.html)

[ https://www.grc.nasa.gov/www/BGH/hihyper.html ](https://www.grc.nasa.gov/www/BGH/hihyper.html)

  
  
  
  


**ENGINEERING/SCIENCE:**

How a Space Shuttle Works:

[ https://science.howstuffworks.com/space-shuttle4.htm ](https://science.howstuffworks.com/space-shuttle4.htm)

[ https://spaceflight.nasa.gov/shuttle/reference/shutref/structure/aftfuselage.html ](https://spaceflight.nasa.gov/shuttle/reference/shutref/structure/aftfuselage.html)

[ https://spaceflight.nasa.gov/shuttle/reference/shutref/structure/airlock.html ](https://spaceflight.nasa.gov/shuttle/reference/shutref/structure/airlock.html)

[ https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/engineering/airlocks ](https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/engineering/airlocks)

Fire in Space:

[ https://www.nasa.gov/missions/shuttle/f_fireprevention.html ](https://www.nasa.gov/missions/shuttle/f_fireprevention.html)

[ https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/in-space-flames-behave-in-ways-nobody-thought-possible-132637810/#:~:text=Without%20gravity%2C%20hot%20air%20expands,thanks%20to%20meager%20oxygen%20flow ](https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/in-space-flames-behave-in-ways-nobody-thought-possible-132637810/#:~:text=Without%20gravity%2C%20hot%20air%20expands,thanks%20to%20meager%20oxygen%20flow).

Electrolysis of Water:

[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrolysis_of_water ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrolysis_of_water)

[ https://theconversation.com/method-of-making-oxygen-from-water-in-zero-gravity-raises-hope-for-long-distance-space-travel-99554 ](https://theconversation.com/method-of-making-oxygen-from-water-in-zero-gravity-raises-hope-for-long-distance-space-travel-99554)

  
  


Lithium Hydroxide/Carbon Dioxide Removal:

[ https://www.nasa.gov/pdf/519347main_AP_ST_CO2Removal_Therm.pdf ](https://www.nasa.gov/pdf/519347main_AP_ST_CO2Removal_Therm.pdf)

[ https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/chemistry/lithium-hydroxide ](https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/chemistry/lithium-hydroxide)

  
  
  


**INSPIRATION:**

Problem Solving and Logged Technical Failures/Fixes:

[ https://www.space.com/41685-space-station-astronauts-sealing-air-leak.html ](https://www.space.com/41685-space-station-astronauts-sealing-air-leak.html)

[ https://www.freethink.com/articles/happens-stuff-breaks-space ](https://www.freethink.com/articles/happens-stuff-breaks-space)

[ https://www.nasa.gov/feature/nasa-hacks-the-real-stories ](https://www.nasa.gov/feature/nasa-hacks-the-real-stories)

Tour of The ISS:

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvTmdIhYnes&t=294s ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvTmdIhYnes&t=294s)

  
  
  


**MISC:**

3D Printing in Space:

[ https://www.space.com/23532-3d-printer-space-station-video.html ](https://www.space.com/23532-3d-printer-space-station-video.html)

Constellations:

[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyra](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyra)

also all the chapters are named after the derivatives of position (snap, crackle, pop, lock, drop) bc i just think that's fuckin hilarious

[longer and sappier end note to be added after reveals LOL]


End file.
